


The Devil's Touch

by stylesdove



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Sequel Trilogy, Star Wars: The Rise of Kylo Ren (Comics)
Genre: 1950s, Alternate Universe - 1950s, Armitage Hux Has Issues, Asylum, Ben Solo - Freeform, Bloodplay, Crazy, Cross-Posted on Wattpad, Dirty Talk, Domestic Violence, Dominant Armitage Hux, Dominant Kylo Ren, Dubious Consent, F/M, Face-Fucking, Fingerfucking, Inmate Kylo, Kylo Ren - Freeform, Kylo Ren Has Issues, Kylo Ren Needs a Hug, Kylo Ren is Not Nice, Masturbation, Mental Institutions, Mildly Dubious Consent, Possessive Kylo Ren, Priest Hux, Religious Conflict, Religious Cults, Religious Imagery & Symbolism, Smut, Star Wars - Freeform, Top Kylo Ren, Verbal Humiliation, alternative universe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-09
Updated: 2020-12-24
Packaged: 2021-03-08 18:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 24
Words: 132,341
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27470983
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stylesdove/pseuds/stylesdove
Summary: When a young but bright girl, is on her destined path to take her vows to unite with the Lord and become a nun of the church, she must prove her worth first for a whole year and spend her time, enlightening the tormented patients of White-Ivy Manor, where insanity lingers.Overtime, all she wants is to bathe in the light of virtuous reverence, but the darkness always seems to capture her motives - especially when a new patient arrives at White-Ivy and she cannot seem to pry away from his haunting, good-looks and the burning devotion in her heart which tortures the weakening commitment to her Lord."There's no such thing as insanity for a mortal, it's merely just the devil's touch."
Relationships: Armitage Hux/Reader, Armitage Hux/You, Kylo Ren/Original Female Character(s), Kylo Ren/Reader, Kylo Ren/You
Comments: 21
Kudos: 87





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> hi – this work is originally found on my wattpad account, @stylesdove - where I regularly update this story almost everyday, and have all my other fan fictions on!  
> I hope you enjoy!

When a young but bright girl, is on her destined path to take her vows to unite with the Lord and become a nun of the church, she must prove her worthy first for a whole year and spend her time, enlightening the tormented patients of White-Ivy Manor, where insanity lingers.

In the beginning, she initially struggled to keep a tender grip around her faith, but the light always flickers in her heart and conflict fades with every turning page of her Bible.

She wants to bathe in the enlightenment, but the darkness always seems to capture her motives – especially when a new patient arrives at White-Ivy, one which she cannot seem to pry away from his haunting, good-looks and the burning devotion which tortures the weakening commitment to her Lord.

Kylo Ren is utterly and demonically, fuelled by insanity and his words are often carved by his inner psychotic nature, but she can't help but be lured into his capturing haze, for it is something so dangerous, and she knows that the path in which the new and beyond crazy, patient tries to drag her along, will lead her straight to the deepest depths of Hell.

Though, she can't help but enjoy the heated journey – so that must make her just as insane as the rest of the patients in White-Ivy.

_After all, Kylo Ren had told her that every single person has got the Devil's touch..._


	2. ONE

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> just a quick warning - this fanfiction is heavily revolved around the 1950's where mental illnesses were taboo, and patients were treated inhumanely - and also, the reader is a religious Sister of the church, but constantly turns away from her faith and struggles with the conflict!

She counts the beads that are strung on the silver chain of her rosary.

With each ball that she rotates between her finger and thumb, she hushes a small prayer beneath her breath to the black bead and warms her devotion in the midst of a pounding heart, and the thrashing of heavy winds which throw cold rain against the bleak window beside her – where handprints are scattered upon it and dust layers the paint of the windowsill.

Her conscience is clean but her shoulders seem to bear the weight of the heavens upon the brittle bones beneath the thin material of her veiled robes. Years of preparation, kneeling, chanting and placing her fate and love into the hands of God, the Almighty – had lead her directly to where she sits now. She would have never expected that this is where the light had pointed her to – this dark and dangerous place where only the unholy scream and scratch their fingernails into the chipping paint, but she's realised that it is her duty to draw back the curtains of the inmate's sins and bask them in the beaconed glory of her Lord.

The life of a religious Sister is the life well chosen for a woman – that's what her mother always told her as she adjusted her coronet and tucked the loose strands of her childhood, beneath the white and black.

It is a boulevard of light against the nature of life, where the Lord's power is the fortress to her heart which has the fragility to be broken by the hand of the Devil, and all the cruelty that he buries and tortures her mortal world into behind the Lord's back – so it is her duty to protect it when the Almighty isn't there to do so himself, with all of his kindness and worthy.

She had grown up with all the scars of innocence and often scratched the back of her head when her parents spoke of her future, and eventually decided that she would not follow her own chosen destiny, but the one that someone much more important had given to her. At first she had screamed and thrashed in the hands of her father, who caused welts around her thin, childish wrist as he lugged her up the cobblestone stairs of the monastery, leading her into the warm embrace of her future in the convent – but bruises and welts fade eventually.

It took years of kneeling before the Lord to fully take solemn in a life of vow – her obedience was often overpassed and taunted, but as the months went on quietly and bathed her in an intense loneliness as she sat every morning on those cobblestone stairs, waiting for her parents to return, she realised that her life was now bound to the statue that hung between the grand windows of the church.

A _religious_ Sister is a woman who joins a _religious_ order – she's not yet a nun but she hopes that this place will change her into one – it will surely show her the same amount of beaconing as she will provide to the inmates who merely breathe in the insanity from the dusty void of their imprisonment.

A Sister renews her vows every year, and this would be her last before rising to her true purpose – she has to keep reminding herself this. It's only _one_ year, it won't be long before the twines of nature are back around her shoulders instead of the melancholy inducing, flicker of the light above her head and the rattling sound of the metal fan, which sits loudly in the corner of the eating hall.

 _White-ivy Manor –_ the penitentiary and asylum for the insane and the criminally sardonic. It was a place that held immorality, but the crosses hung upon the walls and the whispers of the Lord's Prayer in their ears from the Sisters, Nun's and Fathers, hold prosperity in the deepest dirts of the patient's tangled brains.

The mental asylum was known for its brutal treatments towards the patients, but it was 1958 — the handling may have been rough but the digits of care are only touched with glimpses of epiphany in the Almighty's eye. She was told on arrival, that the medicines are becoming much more advanced and there's nothing to fear from the dark halls and tall, European windows, for the patients are dosed up to an ever-present dullness, rather than their full capacity of insanity.

As she walked through the halls and caught glimpses of the multiple corridors and rooms of melancholy, she saw that most patients were dressed with tight wrappings of cold chains and the most dangerous were put into their own plush roomed-cells.

Father Hux said that upon first arrival of the patients, they aren't truely insane, but rather they lack disobedience from the Lord's faith and that when they refuse to be enlightened, is when the Devil's touch gets to them – giving them the punishment of a life filled with madness and white walls which only confine them deeper into the trappings of their own, unstable minds.

Before arriving to White-Ivy Manor, she had endured the whispers of her Sister's, claiming that the authorities here, sweet talk the patients, lace them into tranquillising chairs and drill dense holes through their skulls and into their brains, to leech out the Devil's poison – and though it sounded extremely violent, she couldn't believe that the ginger man before her, with pale flesh, narrow eyes and a small smile, could ever do anything _that_ malicious.

"I assure you, Sister — that you will most definitely learn something from your experience here at White-Ivy, and the Lord certainly appreciates your help as much as I do." Father Hux said as his fingers interlocked over the table, which smelt of intense bleach and faintly of peas.

The pair of God's servants, sat in the meek dining hall in the west-side of White-Ivy Manor, where in three hours, the patients will all start to line through in their collected groups, and eat upon the bleached surfaces, inhaling nothing but the grim faces and the bland foods upon grey plates.

She smiles to the Father and bows her veil once, "Thank you, Father Hux." She said in a small voice, her nerves bouncing in her knees beneath the table and causing her throat to dry, "I am also appreciative of the faith in the Lord and your own in me, for allowing me to assist and grow in my religious path."

The priest wore a full robe of black, where his long sleeved drapes were pinned with dark buttons from the neck, right down to almost the hemline, where the shiny toes of boots were just visible as they poke out beneath the table. From what she had seen from him so far, in the short time of that morning, was that he was humble and respectful, he was devout to his faith and set a good example to his followers.

Father Hux had an even temperament and the kind of voice that's easy to get lost in, cold but there is a hint of knowingness and maturity that causes him to be so bold and serious. He was strong and resilient, a rock in the troubled times of parish. He could shine light where there was despair and mend the hearts of the broken – and with the help of the Lord, he was prepared to fix every mushed brain in White-Ivy Manor.

The ginger man nods to her, his smile being nothing but a straight line with a slight upturn on one corner, "No need to give your thanks and gratitudes." He says with a warm tone, "I am certain that it won't be long before you take your perpetual-solemn vows to live a life according to the evangelical counsel and become a bride to Christ."

Father Hux's words swirled and twirled in the senseless girl's whirlpool of thoughts, and she tightly clutched onto her fingers, then twining them into her robes beneath the polished table in the far corner — next to the glossed window. No matter how much she asked the Lord to provide her strength, she couldn't help the cluster of anxiety which arose in her chest and sparked through her veins as if she was hardwired to one of those new, electrocution chambers that they give to the worst criminals.

 _A bride of Christ_ – the highest honour for a woman in the light, a Sister or Nun in the chapel. Growing up, it had never been something that she truly wanted; though with her faith, this honour should be the only thing keeping her kneeling before the Lord, for that's all any of her Sister's truely want, too. But they didn't burn with conflict, they didn't burrow beneath the flames of a secret and painful desire to have something more, something tangible.

Marriage to Christ means the union of her heart and faith to her Lord, which spares her with nothing left to give to another man – but she had often wondered what life would be like, if she were one of the women that she would watch walk down the busy street, with a handsome man clasped in their polished hands. The last time she had held a boy's hand, was when she was eight and the young, innocent boy next door had become her boyfriend in the span of two days in the sand-pit – she chuckles to herself every-time she remembers the day she was in the confessional box at the age of twelve, crying to the pastor with guilt that she had never formally ended ties with that blond boy from years ago.

This is her burden forever, and a secret that she will keep hidden until the time comes for her to confess it to her Lord in the sky – she wishes that she could have both grand things. The life of prosperity in the eye of the Almighty, and the life where she was one of those beautiful women, walking down the street with a man interlocked around her arm.

She smiles despite her inner morality of sin, "Yes – I can only place my hope in the Christ's desire."

Father Hux's hums beneath his breath and pushes the set of keys that sat in the middle of the table, closer to her, to which she grasped onto the silver lockings and eyed each one as he explained their purpose — and when she held the last one out of the four on the silver ring, he pointed to it with a slim finger and said, "– And that one will open your quarters on the far-side of the eastern ward. It's nothing special, just a room with a bed. The women's communal shower isn't that far from it – I am certain that Sister Darlot will show you around."

She glances away from Hux's small smile of white teeth and thin lips, and over to the girl who stood far off in the corner of the hall, with her dainty hands clasped together as tight as her veil sat, shielding her hair from falling onto her pale face.

She knew Darlot from years spent in the monastery, the girl was a year older than the new Sister, and she had left the monastery a couple of months earlier, to help the patients of White-Ivy, find a brighter light than the dull illumination of the sun — which shines through the silver lining of the forest peaks that surrounds the Manor.

Darlot Rose – the young Sister who sat before Father Hux, had always envied her – Darlot truely could have been one of those women who walked down the street, where every step she took was taken with purpose and confidence, thanks to the undeniable beauty that she possessed. Though attraction and looks, wasn't something that should be praised in the Lord's eye and Darlot never seemed to care about it either, choosing to cover her beauty by her veils and black drapes.

The new Sister smiles over to Darlot, clenching her fists tight to only unclench them and subconsciously wipe her palms against her own black robes, as if they were bleeding red and staining the fabric from the slight indentations of her nails, which embedded into her skin in timid nerves.

Porcelain skin, the same as the pillars and statues around the garden outside, her shoulder-length blonde hair was the most golden thing upon this planet but it was always hidden and her pale blue eyes were the same as the rumbling sky, almost so clear, that it was a wondrous grey. She's tall and strong, despite her lack of muscle, but the power she possesses within her kind heart for God, is a clashing to her soft features and voice.

There was a steadiness to Darlot, as if all the storms in the world were a whispering breeze if she was there, for she was the most calming person that the other young girl had ever known. She was kind and clever, perhaps that's what drew people to her, or even that's why the Lord had chosen her, because she was the true bearer of light.

The young Sister nods to Darlot and asks her a question, "Should we head over there now, before the patients arrive for breakfast?"

Against her black robes that she wrapped her arms around to keep her torso warm in the midst of this icy breeze, which crept through the cracks of the barricaded windows, her rosy lips truely beaconed in the morning dew, and they were something that often made the younger girl _even more_ jealous — for it seemed that Darlot had everything in the world, but her perfect beauty was almost unreal. It cascaded upon her with no holding back as inside, she radiated a dazzling haze and outside, enchantment.

Darlot nods, her pale eyes even glistening like diamonds in the morning as she makes her way over and glances to Father Hux, "Father? Should I show her around now?"

The ginger man shook his head and sighed as he slowly got up from his chair, causing the legs to scrape against the floor, to which both girl's flinch at.

"No." He hums, flicking his blue eyes to the Sister sitting, ushering her to stand before continuing, "There's a new patient arriving today, I thought that it would be educational to show her how we bring in the new arrivals."

She stands from her chair abruptly and her body goes taut when she hears his revelation. Cautiously, she looked to Father Hux and a bad taste formed in her mouth as she captured the way his right eye, _twitched_ , "A new patient?" She asked, "Are you certain that I am even ready, shouldn't I ease into my surroundings first?"

Father Hux chuckles and grins, "Sorry, young one, but there is no better way to learn than being unbalanced upon the tightrope that the Lord sways your conscience upon."

Utterly confused, she cocked a brow but shook her head with a smile to cover her perplexity, "Right." She muttered, "You are most certainly, correct – Father." She said, even though she had no clue as to what his words, truely meant.

When the Brothers of the cross eventually walked into the eating hall, with papers in their hands and guards by their sides, Darlot and the new Sister took a couple of paces back, so Father Hux could murmur to the men about the arriving patient.

"I heard whispers that he is really dangerous." Darlot muttered with tight lips and her face staring straight forward, "He's utterly, psychotic."

The girl beside her, furrowed her brows and twitched her eyes to the taller girl beside her, "Who?" She asked in a low voice.

Darlot sucks on her bottom lip to suppress a giggle, "The new patient."

Her eyes widen and she looks away from Darlot as the bubbling of fear began to boil in the girl, who suddenly felt so out of place as the beads of her rosary twisted around her fingers, "Oh –" She swallowed, "What's wrong with him?"

Darlot shrugs, "I'm not entirely certain, but the nurse over in the eastern-ward had read his file and told me that he had done terrible things to young girls." She glances to the door, praying that there will be more time before the new patient that the two Sister's whispered about, walks in.

Darlot continues, "Girls like you and I."

As much as the other girl wanted to shut her eyes and morph into a different place, away from the dawning apprehension which Darlot only brew – there was nowhere else she could run off to, for she was certain that the Lord would follow her everywhere, ready to punish her for her cowardliness.

Violent thoughts did not cease from drilling themselves into her head and they wouldn't stop from welcoming the fear inside of her and moving aside to give it a new home in her heart.

She bites the inside of her cheek softly as she keeps her gaze on the back of Father Hux's drapes, "You mean, servants of the Lord?"

 _Was the new patient one of those sardonic, merciless men who worshiped Satan?_ The young girl worried in the midst of the trappings of her own mind.

Darlot shakes her head, "No – _innocent_ girls."

Darlot's final words stung, and the Sister's throat suddenly seemed much narrower or as if she had swallowed sharp glass. She had barely been here for an hour yet, and already, her bones began to tense as if the blood circling around them, was laced with the same insanity that caused low shouts to cross the halls and courtyards of White-Ivy Manor.

Sighing and staring up at the ceiling, she felt as if the high plaster was beginning to sink down and cave her into an overwhelming sense of claustrophobia – _It's only a year,_ she reminds herself.

When three other guards walked into the hall, it was as if they had been hardwired to arrive the moment the clock on the wall, struck noon – to which after the chimes, they told Father Hux that the patient had arrived and was being rushed through the halls before any of the other, _safer,_ patient's were allowed to walk around.

The new, dangerous patient was being taken to the eating hall before being settled into his cell and the young Sister couldn't help but feel a little weary that he was being given the same treatment that she basically was.

Upon arrival, she was lead to the hall and then was told she would spend the rest of her day to get used to her new quarters – but now she's standing here on wobbly legs, waiting to help an insane criminal do all those things instead.

She expected the sinner to walk in as casually as the rest of the guards around her did – after all, she was often told that culprits of Lucifer were moulded the same as himself. A wolf in sheep's clothing. A monster within the body of a man.

But the patient was all so much different and impossibly more – the clouds outside the windows seemed to darken around his presence and the spirit of the world seemed to pull out from beneath her feet.

She shouldn't have been shocked that he was already showing such, incredible violence with the astonishment of his brute strength – but the fear within her chest as both her and Darlot take an apprehensive step further back, becomes her own personal demon to slay, for it will only eat her alive if this is how she reacts to every patient in her year spent in White-Ivy – but him? She could already tell that he was different to the rest of the hallowing cries that she was first welcomed with.

He thrashed into the hall, his shackled hands swinging as the guards tried to contain him. He shouted, yelled and spat, like a true Devil would, but his beauty was just the same as a fallen angel's would be.

Just his overall attraction, drew her in like a magnetic field, clinging onto her loins like he had a vice-like grip on gravity, but when he punched one of the guards to the ground with his interlocked fingers and everyone reacted with fear and power, this twisted reality that shunned her light, began to distort around him, challenging the mundane facts of her existence and bringing a sense of mysterious darkness into a new turbulent realm.

 _May the Lord show him the light,_ she thought to herself – ignoring the adding of, _what a waste of such a handsome man._

Dark, raven hair that softly swayed in long strands which seemed soft to the touch around his strong and defined features of pure porcelain, the patient was tall and broad, and even beneath the crinkled and loose scrubs that he was now forced to wear, there was no guessing that beneath it, his form was pure muscle as it even showed in the twining cords that lapped up his neck.

His deep voice, boomed across the grey skies, threatening even the lowest of thunder to battle his sick mind. The other two guards stepped in to detain the man as Father Hux was ushered to Darlot's side for safety by another guard.

"Kylo Ren." Father Hux's voice rose upon the distorted violence of the room, but nobody was paying attention – nobody but her, who had to fight from gasping at the sound of his name. It was unlike anything she had heard before, but she wouldn't be surprised if she found it in the Bible, one day.

"You have been sent to White-ivy for your crimes, but most importantly, because you need help to coax the devil from your soul." Father Hux continues, his voice not even failing as a guard kicks the patient to the ground and another, reaches for his baton which hung on the back of his belt – panic bloomed in her guts, but there was nothing she could do before the guard quickly whipped the baton through the chilly air and strikes it on the side of the handsome, but insane, man's marble face.

She struggled to swallow and the beads from her rosary, suddenly snapped off the chain and fell to the floor in a loud splattering which could resemble the sound of hail hitting a tin roof. Darlot eyes the broken chain but she doesn't say anything, only passes the girl beside her, her own rosary with hands of jelly, that shook and trembled around the beads.

The new Sister, whispers a breath of gratitude and wraps the new rosary around her neck, the cross imbedding into her palm as she grasped onto it to steady herself.

"We, the servants of God, are here to help you." Father Hux cooed as he began to walk up to the awfully limp patient as he crumpled to his knees and stopped his thrashing to hold a hand to his cheek, where the blood began to seep through his long, white fingers. The tall, ginger man had authority, but he was nothing compared to the stature of Kylo Ren, and it frightened both her and Darlot, the way Father Hux was completely unfazed by the outburst.

"You will see the light eventually." He said, then looking back to the two, wide-eyed Sister's, "They always do."

She was lost with just his flicker of a gaze that laid upon her for a split second, slowing time into a stretched out continuum that even made the blood in her warm veins pause for a second, before he tore it into shreds as Kylo Ren looked back to Father Hux and spat through his blood, sending it to fall upon the ginger man's clean boots and the hem of his black drapes.

For the first time, when Darlot begins to tremble, the other girl doesn't even flinch as the crimson begins to rise in her cheeks. His eyes were like a beacon in the darkness and it sent a sharp feeling to strike her heart with astonishment, and she knew with just one skip of a heartbeat, that she would have to do a lot of praying tonight and confess her guilt for the quick glance she takes to his lips, which begin to coat in his own blood.

Broad and rough, the wound had been torn into his face with such a blunt force, that the skin rippled along his cheekbone and across his nose, rather than sliced. One moment that flesh was so pure, white and soft with the occasional freckle, now it was scarred with red.

"So – Mr. Ren," Father Hux sighed as he glanced to the guards, silently telling them to tighten their grips around his shackled hands, "You seem to have a deep gash in your face and there is no underestimating that it must hurt incredibly."

There was no answer to erupt from the once, screaming man – but Father Hux didn't seem to mind the silence as he only continued to fill it with his sneering but calm tone, "Now, are you going to be calm for the young ladies over here, and allow them to take a look at it with their delicate hands, without inflicting more violence?"

Wanting to gasp and refuse aloud, she widened her eyes to the ginger man and wished that she could plead that she didn't know how to tend to a wound, but both her and Darlot had been trained to apply first-aid, whenever necessary – and the Father knew that as much as she did.

"Are you willing to comply?" Father Hux added, to which all at once, the dark haired man groaned a grunt until his eyelids fluttered open, indistinctness tinting his vision as a dark and evil haze was opting to corrupt who he had laid his eyes upon with bleak darkness, shadowing his entire identity. Once a sinner, always a sinner, Kylo smiled to the terrified girl and nodded once as the blood seeped between his teeth.

Suddenly, Darlot moved from her side to retrieve the first aid pack which sat on the chair in the corner, which she once stood beside and returned with much hesitations, swirling in the blues of her terrified eyes.

Like a spotlight upon a shy soul, the other nun-in-training, was utterly and hopelessly, frozen in shock as her own lips parted slowly and the breath left her lungs as Darlot took the first step towards the kneeling criminal, who still had his eyes locked on the smaller girl behind her, with the scarlet cheeks.

Metallic also pricks her tastebuds but she continues to inflict her own pain in her cheek as she slowly makes her way to the restrained patient who smiled so warmly to only her as if nobody else was in the hall.

A guard grumbles to her as the bottom of her black drapes brushed the droplets of his blood across the floor surrounding him, "Watch out," The balding, tubby guard laughed as he tightened his grip around Kylo's handcuffs, "He seems to like you."

Ignoring the guards taunts, she can feel the sweat drench her skin, the throbbing of her own eyes, the ringing of blood dropping onto the floor and the thumping of her heart against her chest. Darlot seems to stand off as for some unknown reason, his smile only tugs the other girl closer as if he had some undeniable force within, which had the power to lure her into his trappings.

 _Is this how he had captured those other girls, who had presumably become his prey?_ She wondered, but still, she made no effort to run away but only knelt to the bloody floor as well.

There was a suspended moment where the two of them are lost in each-other's eyes. His red smile never fades to her and she swallows roughly at his dark, raven hair which softly fell in tousled, long strands around this defined face of pure white. He was extraordinarily tall and broad even when slouched upon the hardwood, a sight to behold – the mask of beauty to a beast.

She couldn't understand what it was about him, that enticed her or made her weak faith fault beneath the weight of his sardonic gaze, but she couldn't fight the heated rise of her flesh as her desire swam amongst the fire burning inside his brown eyes and floated with the smouldering embers of a crumbling ploy to marry herself off to Christ and never glance at a man with such lust.

With a tumbling hand, she reached out to Darlot, who still stood by her side but made no effort to be as close, while every-one else in the hall, simply watched with wide eyes and agitated nerves, ready to strike if Kylo made a move to hurt the Sister, but he made none as she slowly clicked open the first-aid box, which Darlot passed to her.

It's her first day and she's already unwinding cloth to press against a deep cut, when truely, she should be mending the gashes in her heart and kneel before the Lord in the chapel, and beg for forgiveness for her frail attempt to fight against the slow burn of her attraction to such a dangerous man.

She's awaiting for the moment that he tears off her veil, scrunches his fingers into her hair and rips it out of her scalp, but as she gulps and meets his gaze once more, all he does is slowly drop his smile and twitch his nose as she holds the material to his cheek.

Her Pastor always said, _"What does one say, when they face evil?"_ – but now that she's facing a man who had caused so much suffering to others, all she can see is the relishing of complex in the dexterity of his eyes as she only inspects his wound to the point where all she can simply utter is, "It's going to need stitches."

The morning was quiet and silence only lingered in the hall whilst the fog began to press up against the windows, giving another sinister feeling to the place which was washed with holy water and shined with the praise of God.

Though, she heard the slightest of breath as he sucked oxygen inwards when she finally moved away, as if he was holding it within his broad chest all that time that she was so close. Suddenly, just when she was about to move back to her feet, Kylo Ren snapped his shackled hands out of the grip of the guard's and grasped his fingers around her wrist.

The young Sister, flinched and turned her head to him sharply, her eyes as wide as the moon with apprehension. He could snap her wrist in half, he knew he had the strength to destroy the veins within her wrist and watch her skin turn blue – but he just... _smiled._

With a sudden jolt of panic, her palms coated in a cold sweat as she tried to clutch urgently out of the locking of his fingers, whilst the guard called for him to let her go.

For the first time, since he had arrived, the patient spoke – and it was only intended to her, "Your hands are warm." He says with a rich, raspy tone.

Her wrist was twined in his grip as the guards began to try and pull him by his strong shoulders, but there was no use, he was like a stone wall, there was no moving him.

His gaze poured gasoline onto the spark of fear in her belly and above it, her heart began to beat incredibly fast but she tried to calm it with shallow breaths. Mind spinning incredibly fast, the surroundings in her vision also swirled but when she meets his deep, brown eyes, it seemed as though he was the gravity in the midst of it all, as all her focus was laid to rest upon him. The young Sister, swallows a nervous lump of bile down and her pink lips slightly tremble before she forces them into a tight, uncomfortable smile – her ability to form words, captured as much as her silent breath was.

He chuckles low and she can feel the vibrations in his own chest from this close as she glances to her wrist in his bloody hand – Kylo Ren, _patient 727,_ only continues as a glimmer of mischief shines in his dark eyes of unholy taunt.

"Do you touch yourself with those enticing fingers of yours?" He whispered and she only gasped in his breath which fanned her shocked face.

He poked his tongue out slightly and licked at a droplet of blood which began to seep into his mouth and as the metallic taste hit his tastebuds, he smirked in a wild, untamed way unlike no other, "Or are you waiting for the Devil to pleasure your soul?"

Just when a petrified sound escapes the back of her throat, is when Kylo Ren lets go of her wrist and in a matter of seconds, he slides his bloodied hand to her cheek and his other, to the back of her neck to pull her closer into him.

She screams into his mouth when his bitter lips forcefully press onto her own – the feeling felt like a completed puzzle but with the weight of her faith and the taste of his vile blood, seeping upon her tongue, nausea churns in her stomach as she tries to push him away – but ultimately, when Kylo Ren's eyes close in the kiss, he must have relaxed enough for the guards to finally be able to tug him away.

When their lips are finally separated, Kylo Ren laughs menacingly in her face before a guard pulls him by the hair, causing his head to crane back and expose all of the blue corded veins beneath the pale flesh and as he keeps his eyes flicked down onto her, he reaches out and tears the rosary from around her neck, which Darlot had given to her, and then pushes the frightened, young girl so she is sent toppling onto her back, her veil and robes becoming a big mess of materials.

She inhaled sharply as Darlot's knees cracked when she bent down to help her to her feet once again. With eyebrows furrowing as her chin quivered, the tears began to prick at the corners of the new girl's eyes – but as she watched Kylo Ren get dragged out of the room, she couldn't help but wrap her fingers around her wrist, remembering the way his large hand had grabbed her so roughly. 

_"Do you touch yourself with those enticing fingers of yours?"_

His words hung in her mind like the swinging of a noose in an eerie, silent forest where the only sound that one can hear, is the twining of the corse rope, twisting upon the bark in the slight wind.

As she stared idly at the chipping ceiling of her new room, where her bed was the exact same, metal framing with a sheet of foam upon it as was all the patient's beds, the only thing that she could see in the peeling paint, was his eyes.

He was haunting her. She couldn't get away from his ghostly lacing which had been placed against her lips and wrist, where she can still feel his skin against her own. The forest below and outside her window, was dark and silent, which only made the howling from across the courtyards and over in the west-wing, incredibly loud for such a peaceful midnight.

She can see his wolfish, amber eyes shine even in the whiteness of the full moon, as it kept shifting into the glaze of brown like limpid pools of gold, which adorned his exceptionally pale face of stone. She utterly hated herself, that she couldn't seem to not think about patient 727 – _What would the Lord think of her violating thoughts?_

But she can't escape the memory of his long dark hair which hovered above his shoulders like a fountain of molten obsidian and his prominent nose, which blood ran down and into the parting of his soft lips – Kylo Ren wasn't anything extraordinary or remarkable with his features, and yet, her vision morphed from the brightness of God's way and focussed onto him like the twist of a lens, though he was the Devil's very own, personal kaleidoscope which he shifted the man into broken pieces to cause a colourful havoc on the mortal world.

She felt somehow, magically drawn to those insane features, that whispered power and abuse in the tension, until those lips drew into a smile which he gave to her, only hours ago. It's daunting, the way the day had unfolded with the happening of an insane man, but already, he has changed the way she thinks about White-Ivy Manor, as if this was nothing but his home and she was trespassing.

 _"Do you touch yourself with those enticing fingers of yours?"_

Her cheeks burn red in the darkness but the heat is unescapable and she could only pray that the Lord wasn't watching, or that the scratchy blanket over her, was enough to cover what she was about to do.

She glared at the ceiling once again, focusing on the memory of his eyes and the way his blood tinged lips tasted against her own. Satan cannot win, but whatever part of the Devil which possessed Kylo Ren, had seemed to rub off onto her or had sunk into the bruises which his fingers caused around her wrist.

Chewing on her lower lip in greed with her front ivory, firm teeth, she causes that same taste of blood to richly spread into the warmth of her mouth once again from the delicate cuts upon her lip.

She will beg for forgiveness the moment the sun rises upon the peaks of the forests around her, she promises this to herself as she bellows into a symphony of whimpering cries, as her fingers make their way to where her untamed, forbidden, passion resides for the handsome but extremely sick and dangerous patient, named, _Kylo Ren._


	3. TWO

Over the next couple of days, apathy washes over the young Sister like boiling water, trapping her faith beneath its murky surface, and only letting in minor moments where the water will recede to allow her lungs to fill with fresh air and her heart to regain the light, in which a certain, mysterious patient had stolen from her. 

There is nothing that matters to her when she wakes up on another dreary Wednesday morning. The rain still patters down the glass of her small window, and the gloom of the sky hardly holds any significance to her soul, other than that it is a new day spent in White-Ivy, but her agenda is anything contrast to the last Wednesday, which was two days after her arrival, and two days after she had last seen Kylo Ren. 

But now, it has been one week _and_ two days – not that she would confess to her Lord that with everyday, she was scratching an invisible tally mark on the surface of her tongue, which still remembers the way the insane and utterly dangerous patient, had swirled his around her's so invigoratingly.

She kneels before the statue upon the cross with two fellow Sister's by her side, who she was yet to know, but there was no time for introducing, before the three all began to whisper solaced commends to their Lord against the interlocked fingers which were clasped to each of their chins in a praying position.

Like every other day, she tries not to think about Patient 727, for he seemed to cause havoc in the twining tendrils of her thoughts with his pensive darkness, which was not a virtuous blessing in the praised light. But even as she kneels in the aisles of the sanctuary, all she wants to do is curse beneath her breath for the mere memory of his brown eyes, made every inch of her skin crawl, but her lips _tingle._

There's an everlasting and ever-present amount of guilt upon her chest and shoulders, whenever she thinks about what she had done the night after he had spoken such sinister words to her. 

_"Do you touch yourself with those enticing fingers of yours?"_

That phrase had rung around her mind and lingered in every tenacious beat of her heart, since the very moment in which she had heard his gravelling voice say it. Kylo Ren, was _so_ obviously a dangerous man, and the things that he had done to poor, innocent women, was often whispered about in the halls from both the workers and fellow patients – but his voice had replayed in her mind like a symphony, hypnotising her faith and moulding it into a delirious need to see him again, just so she can remind herself of his dark nature and remove this haloed image of his beauty, from her soul. 

When prayers are fading in numbers and eventually, she is the last one kneeling in the chapel – the young Sister swallows up her words and ends up just shaking her head to herself, before mumbling a curt apology to her saviour, hoping that He will find a way to curse the butterscotch haunting of brown eyes, out of her mind forevermore, and forgive her for the wondering gaze that she has when going about her duties throughout the morning, secretly searching every corner to see if Kylo Ren will finally turn up again. 

Time ticks by tantalisingly slow, and by the time she had finished her morning duties, her next task was to assist in watching the third round of lunch, which would include the next wave of forty patients – the young Sister's feet had begun to hurt again in the new leather shoes beneath her drapes, which she had bought the day she had found out about her enrolment in White-Ivy. 

Initially, she had tried to stand patiently in the corner and watch over the patients, who chatted, rocked, and even laughed to only themselves and the grey slop upon their trays, but after sighing a hundred times and keeping an eye on the door, waiting for Darlot to arrive, the new Sister took it upon herself to take a seat instead – which seemed to be permitted, for a nurse was already sitting beside a young patient and assisting her in colouring a lined sheet.

She had moved to the table beside the window at the far back of the eating hall, where the icy chill of the room seemed to waver around the slight ease of sunlight which snuck through a certain crevasse of the clouds and pressed itself against the corner of the glass. It took everything in her chest to not let out the exasperated breath of relief when her throbbing feet were relieved from the pressure of her own body weight, and from the second she allowed her eyes to briefly close. 

No matter how small the warmth was, the wind still rustled sharply through the bare branches outside the window and reminded her that the chill in her sore hands, was still biting away at her aptitude to regain composure, beyond the tired hollowness of her stultified ethic. 

Opening her eyes once more, she was tossed and converged back into the eating hall which was built by grey walls, to encage the rows of grey faces. An unoccupied, but perfectly set-up game of chess was before her, untouched and un-partnered in the dreary time of lunch. 

During eating hour, there was definitely a lack of silence – but when the mouths of most patients are no longer stuffed, the sedatives no longer strike blood, and the sun draws into the impulsive darkness... the sounds of her nightmares seem to come alive and bounce all throughout the manor, all night long – somewhat even inducing a certain, tired madness and echoing in her ears whenever the silence of dawn, finally arises. 

But when the doors slap open and three people enter the eating hall, the shouts and bitten-off screams were far better than the hushed whimpering of the suddenly scared patients.

White-Ivy was supposed to be heavily reinforced with on-clock guards of high training, but it had only taken her less than a week to notice the bare corners of authority. And even in the areas where guards were on watch, they were anything but highly trained, for the most eminent officer seemed to be always lingering around the most recent and threatening convalescent here – _Kylo Ren._

As the young Sister's eyes met the deep and intensified brown of the dangerous patient, who clouded her memory since the moment he had arrived – a sinister chill runs down her spine and her mouth parts from the back of the hall. 

Even the sun seems to retreat when it saw Patient 727, enter the very place in which the guards had struck his face open into a gashing wound, and as Kylo Ren glanced around the room with an undisturbed demeanour, _while the other patients were anything but,_ the new Sister notices even in the distance, that his face had seemed to be sewn brutally shut – leaving a jagged and deformed scar across his handsome, stone-like face, which seemed to resemble marble, for his complexion was almost pure white, but the wound was the streak of black in the broken ivory.

The shadows are thrown into the room as if he carries nothing but darkness, and the lights flicker for a split second, warping illuminance on the grounds, to which an elderly patient gawks at – and if only the young girl hadn't turned her eyes over to that patient, she would have seen the way the shadows shifted once more as the lights turned back on, providing the illusion that both the darkness and light, curl towards the shackled figure...

And by the time she finally glanced back to Patient 727, he was already watching her carefully, spotting her through the rows of dreary faces as if she was a haloing spirit. A twisted smile curled upon his face and she gasped below her breath at the way his torn skin tightened and moulded around the punctured threads. 

Behind his tall and muscular build, Darlot suddenly appeared and tried to refocus his attention, over to an empty table, whilst the guard took his place in the corner of the room, ready to assess every single move of the raven-haired man, incase violence was to arise in the calm. 

With much experience in White-Ivy, Darlot had been assigned Kylo Ren in hopes that he would find support in her comforts and listen to her whispers of elightening – but in this very moment, he wasn't paying attention to a single word in which she gently uttered to him, for he had met the horrified eyes from across the room, all while his own burned with a pensive excitement – one emotion which his own fingernails couldn't portray in the scratchings upon his cell-wall.

Only when the younger nun-to-be, finally broke the magnetic gaze as her hands warmed immediately and trembled with nerves, did Kylo Ren also turn and mumble something low to Darlot – who's mouth dropped and glanced away, clearly thinking over something, before nodding slowly and letting the for now, almost tranquillised savage, walk to the back of the room... _alone._

The hauntingly, good-looking man allowed a small smirk to grace his face, as he sat down in the empty seat in-front of the Sister, elation dancing in his conscience as he watched the pink arise on the enticing, apples of her cheeks. Not even the fear which carried in her wide eyes, could ruin the thrilling glee which pulsed through his sedated blood, which pulsed and throbbed in his wrists as the silver shackles, tightly grind into his bones. 

She didn't dare to move, nor even breathe. She was completely and stiffly, frozen to the spot and even all the colour in her face, dropped to her throbbing feet beneath the table. Her heartbeat echos in her own ears like the clang of a million drums, but she tries to keep her demeanour unresponsive to the way his eyes shine with mischievousness at both her, and the lonesome chessboard between them.

To anyone watching the totally differing, pair at the window, it must have seemed so strange, craze-minded or not. The overly large and muscular man, who wore his dark overalls loose and tied around his waist, showing the build of his chest in a dirty singlet, sat like a predator over his prey – which was the small, timid woman who wore nothing but black drapes, to prove her loyalty and modesty to her true saviour, who she hoped listened to her hidden prayers, as she gripped onto her rosary beneath the table.

Kylo's black hair fell over his face, unkempt and unruly, but his eyes shone like coppery fire from under the dark locks, as he tried to assess the young woman before him, twitching his sight at every crease and mark upon her face, as if they held the answers to the questions in his jumbled and chaotic mind.

In the sudden silence, she could feel every eye trained on them, though most of them were glazed over and no subconscious was actually present behind the dilated pupils. A slight sweat formed in her palms around the beads of her rosary, which Darlot had generously given her, and as she tried to refrain from dropping it to the floor in shock, she focussed only on the intense beat of her heart – which was only moments away from crashing out of her ribs, and puncturing upon the pointed edges of the chess pieces.

Even Kylo Ren's breath was desperately silent, as if he was trying to fit into the shadows that followed him, or perhaps that was a talent in which he had acquired in the years spent, hiding in dark places and watching his victims without them knowing. The Sister felt claustrophobic even with the table separating him from her, which was much more space than the last time in which he stared so deeply upon her. The stench of morality was in the air as he rung on his chains, almost overpowering the retched smell of sweat and urine.

She was beyond scared, seemingly awaiting the sudden twist of silence for he must be thinking about all the ways in which he can kill her, as he had done with all of his other victims. 

Her mind wondered, just how he was recalling every way in which he knew how to murder innocent girls like her. Would he thrash up immediately and wrap his long fingers around her neck, or would he rather squeeze the life out of her eyes with the twisted chains that were keeping his wrists bound? 

She had heard many disgusting and horrific designs in which he had made, causing him to be veridically considered one of the most sick and twisted criminals of the 50's – but without the tools he once possessed, did he have the power to break her in half with his bare hands, or would he find it impossibly easy to use something else to puncture the blood out of her veins? 

Her eyes flickered to the king chess piece. That had a sharp end... _Perhaps, he would swipe that across the pudgy skin of her neck and th–_

"Do you know how?" His voice suddenly broke both the sacred silence, and the capturing of her unholy thoughts.

As her breath hitches in the middle of her throat, she presumes that he is talking about the endless ways he had killed his victims, too – and was certainly ready to give her the answer in which he had come up with, to kill her just as perilously.

The young Sister glances briefly over to the guard in the corner, who is watching just as intently as Kylo watches her – the only difference was, that man actually had a loaded weapon in hand. 

She swallows roughly and tears her eyes back to Patient 727, ignoring the shouts of her faith in the back of her mind, who protest to speaking with such an imitation of Lucifer, _himself._

"I-I'm sorry, pardon?" She stutters, shaking her head and keeping her eyes refrained from showing any of the uncertainty within. 

He smiled.

The simple gesture suddenly caused a sincere, but unnerving, sense of comfort to wash over her cluttered emotions, wondrously and all too quickly, replacing her fears with total ease. A meek smile erupted on the edges of her rose coloured lips too, something which Kylo Ren clearly noticed as his brown eyes flicked to them and narrowed at the softness.

His large, shackled hands, motioned to the game board between them.

"Do you... know how to play?" He asked calmly, as if he wasn't a patient in a mental asylum and she wasn't a Sister, who was supposed to coax the haunting voices out of his twisted mind, with the soulful word of God. 

She can't ignore the wave of relief which washes over her – but the water seems to be scorching hot, watering down the goosebumps of her skin and smothering her ethic as she sighs with a nervous grin. 

"O-Oh..." She breathes, almost forgetting that the man was a convicted killer, as she relaxed in her plastic seat, "Yes, I do."

Kylo had never been blessed with manners and decency, but rather from the moment he was born, he was cursed with the delicious burden of lusting after darkness rather than the dreary mimicking of light that many spend their life searching for – but the young girl before him, who wore the drapes of all black, radiated with nothing but grace, and with one cruel gaze, he was enthralled by her illumination.

He cocked a brow, "Then, will you play a game with me?"

The young Sister's heart skipped a beat – it wasn't fair that somebody so homicidal and ferocious, was implanted in the vessel of such a brutally stunning man.

His dark brown, tousled hair complements his smooth skin so beautifully. His cocoa eyes are somehow still brighter than the sun itself. His half smile nearly melts her into a puddle of nothing, and his voice is more inviting than a seat at the table of the last supper – _it's not fair._

She shook her head, "I'm not very good at it."

"Doesn't bother me," He shrugged, "Just means that I can win the game quicker and the sooner you are able to run away from me."

His shackles clinked as his hands moved from his lap and to the table between them, causing her to flinch as his fingers moved the first piece. He was black. She was white.

Once again, Kylo's peering gaze attracts her attention. There was a slight shine to the dark orbs, perhaps it was the gloom of the day or the demonic chortle behind the glass – she cannot quite tell, but she does know that whatever those eyes are doing to her, aren't holy and will consume her into a path of despair, dead or alive.

She looks back to the chessboard with a doubting expression, a crease forming between the furrowing of her brows. 

"I –" She starts, but the words clog in her throat as if he already has his hands wrapped around it, "I don't want to run away from you." She finally utters, uncertain as to if she is speaking the truth, for her hands only wrap her rosary around her wrist, and then curl around the edge of the table – almost keeping her right in his trap.

Treachery, ash and corpses all at once, seem to chase her faith with shadows, much like his own. He was a black cloak of a man, although his skin was as white as the clouds on a bright day – he made no sense, but the most irrational and illogical thing of this whole situation, was the fact that she actually hadn't ran away from his revenant, _yet._

He seemed to be thinking the same thing too.

"You must be a fool, then." Kylo rolled his eyes and tutted – to which, she could almost feel the cold touch of savage in his displeasure, and an ignorant part of her wracked to shove down the rise of need, in which she wished to please the gorgeous man. 

What was happening to her? She had never ventured out of her biblical territory, and now her soul was wandering over to such dark... _desires?_ She was almost offended that she had allowed herself to blush beneath his stare. It was a remarkable treachery to her oaths and credences, so much so that she was surprised that the cross upon her rosary wasn't melting the skin of her palms. 

She still can't forget about that night. The night where she only thought about him as her hands did something in which she had never done before. But she shook off that memory for now, just as she shook her head and said, "I don't understand..."

Only when she finds the strength to uncurl her hands and move her own chess piece, does Patient 727 glance away from her, and to the white pawn she had moved, one space forwards – nothing even remotely precarious enough to make her vulnerable. She's playing it safe from the start.

His overly large hands elevate above the chessboard now, and the chains which bind around his wrists, only just not cause any of the pieces to knock over, as his fingers shift from point to point. Kylo Ren's own eyebrows knit together as he stares at the checkered game, a dexterity in his mind, almost as if he is considering his next twenty moves, instead of just the second. 

"Oh, I think you do." He simply chimes with a bored tone, then giving her an apologetic smile as he makes a bold move, in only the beginning of the game – almost resembling the strike of his first words to her, all those days ago.

Patient 727 runs his hands through his hair. Her eyes widen and her knees all at once, with no cognition, start to shake beneath her drapes.

Kylo Ren looked like a _devastating,_ fallen angel – she suddenly realised. He was beautiful, but scarred and filled with intentions beyond glorious. Why she was still sitting here, playing a game of chess with someone so cruel, was beyond her, and if you had told her prior to arriving to White-Ivy Manor, that there would be a dirty part in her heart which wants to see the fingers of a killer, move through her own, _hidden,_ hair – she would have said that there was more of a chance that the Lord would have seen her wrap a noose around her neck, before ever lusting after long, pale, fingers.

Nausea swirled sickly in her stomach and her gut tensed. 

"You know what, I'm really not good at this game. Are you sure you don't want me to ask Darlot if she knows how to play?" She changed her mind, pointing over to the older Sister, who sat far off with a new patient in the meantime. 

Her finger shook in the air and there was not a speck of dirt beneath the nail – he noticed that clearly, before turning his head to Darlot behind him, and then back to the woman before him.

"No," Kylo Ren simply stated, shaking his head, "I don't like her."

His rage simmered just under the surface, and she could still feel its heat in the curt distaste – but in a curiously detached way, this was the first she had heard him speak about himself, and like a deer in the headlights, she was watching him doe-eyed and deviant – Almost as if there was a sudden hunger to know more, instead of pure fear swirling in her stomach, and although she is still apprehensive of him, and presumes that she will get eventually struck and mauled by the light which keeps her wondering with hysteria, _she still stays._

"Why not?" She asked softly, then rambling on in the quiet, "Darlot is an exceptional care-taker and is very kind."

With chess pieces no longer moving, Kylo Ren still kept his finger on his next piece, despite the fact that she was yet to have her turn. Her white pieces stand together in a fragile unity, leaving only one hole in her line up. 

Biting softly on her bottom lip when he doesn't respond straight away, she quickly moves a random pawn again, thinking that perhaps, he would answer her if there was still game-play. 

_And she was right._

"I suppose..." He sways his head from side to side. Moving his black rook. His chess pieces are almost too eager to cross to her side, as if beneath his poker-face, there was a reckless abandon of fear in his body – even if she does presume that a man like him, who had gotten away with the things that he had done for so long, must be madly unyielded from unforeseeable twists.

As Kylo turns his left hand to his right, he holds the dangle of his chain to his wrist and moves his arms back away from the board, awaiting her turn again as his eyes narrow to the game but his words are unrelated.

"– But she doesn't have hands like yours, and you are better company anyway," He states, as if it was obvious and as though they had been acquaintances for quite some time.

The young woman's heart cramps, and along with the rise of misconduct and somewhat, guilt – comes along that brittle and hopeless feeling of _need._

After being dropped off at the monastery by her parent's at a young age, only to never see them again, there was always something in her which searched for nurture or the glimpse of being wanted – and although, Kylo Ren was as bold as anything and deserved to perish in the deepest depths of Hell, she couldn't help but hold onto his words and wish that they had come from someone, _literally anyone,_ else.

His words weren't even that grand, they were platonically bland to anyone else – but to her, she pictured them coming from someone who she imagined, was held close to her heart and it felt like coming home – something which she truely _needed._

 _Oh, Lord_ – she needed to feel belonging so much that it scared her sometimes, as she often found herself praying for it, before bed... and again, if only those words hadn't come from _him,_ a murderous man who _did not_ know her.

She swallowed on her heartache and shook her head again, "Better company? You don't even know me or even my name," She uttered, chuckling and then moving the same piece from before. 

Kylo chuckles too – and only then does her mind think over how casual he is, almost as if he doesn't belong in those overalls of dark blue, with a patient number printed upon the material and cords of metal around his thick wrists. 

The raven haired man raises a brow to both her statement, and her foolish play. His hands move quick and lock on his target, all to then knock the pawn of his enemy, off the board. 

"I'll come up with a name for you soon enough –" He drawls, motioning for her to take her turn, whilst her lips only part at his bizarre statement. 

It's not like she needed a name, she had already been given one... but there was an eruption of butterflies in the dust of her chest at the mere fact that he said he would replace the one in which her traitorous parent's had given to her. 

She's definitely going to have to beg the Lord for forgiveness tonight and in the morning. The longer she speaks to him, the harder it is to refrain from being pulled into his magnetic awe.

He only continues, as she blinks away from him and to her rows of white. 

"And well, it's either Darlot, who won't stop mumbling prayers beneath her breath, the dimwitted nurses and guards, or _you..."_ Kylo Ren had a voice so rough but soft, that it was like a clashing of sand to gravel. 

The grounds beneath her feet seemed to metaphorically, shake like a storm. She swallowed roughly and moved a piece in order to try and ignore the erratic and nervous heart of her's, which was pounding against the cage around it. The time on the clock upon the wall, was slowly ticking and lunch was nearing to an end.

"What about the other patients?" She questioned in a light tone, seemingly not considering the fact that he could lean over the game and kill her, "I'm sure at least one of them knows how to play chess," She looks up and grins to him. 

_Get a grip –_ she thinks to herself, her smile falling back down, shortly after.

But sadly, she was lost with just his flicker of a gaze that laid upon her for another split second, slowing time into a stretched out continuum that even made the blood in her veins pause for a second, before he tore it into shreds as he looked away and clicked his tongue to the roof of his mouth.

"They're all insane," Patient 727 rolls his eyes. 

She has to use every last ounce of her strength to fight the urge to laugh. Raising a brow, she runs her eyes along the sharpness of his jaw whilst he isn't looking and says, "And you're not?"

Glacial fingertips smoothed over his brow, across his fresh cut then over his cheek, where her fingers once attended the smearing of his blood. He felt a twinge of pain – but he didn't even wince, maybe that was because he was a psychopath, she thought. 

Observing him whenever he wasn't watching, _as he had done to her,_ she noticed the slopes of grey beneath his dark eyes, almost matching the bags beneath her own but his weren't pudgy, the skin was almost sinking into his face as if the fatigue was eating away at his colour and causing his handsome features to turn gaunt. 

Like her, Kylo Ren was obviously not getting any sleep here in White-Ivy. She speculated that it might be because of the same reason, the shouts and cries of the wild patients in their cages – but as psychopathic as he was supposed to be, she doubted that he was as calm as he is right now, at night when the sedatives leak out of his tired eyes. 

When Kylo Ren suspects that there may be disappointment in the young Sister by his lack of answers. He is ultimately curious as to why indeed, she was still asking questions. Upon stalking over to the far off table in which they sat at now, he presumed that she would have found a way to leave, but just like his first day here, when she attended to his stinging wound with those delicate hands of her's, which besides her alluring face, was the only flesh that peeked from out of her drapes – she made no expression of trepidation, and just like when his lips crashed to her's, she made no effort to move unless he did first.

Patient 727 breathes in deeply, but makes no effort to let all that air go until he finally utters with a dead face, "I never said I wasn't." 

Her mouth dries, "Oh."

Kylo Ren shakes his head and finally moves his chess piece, "But I also never said I was..." He adds as the black knight moves, and his dark eyes meet her's. 

In her peripheral's she can see his long fingers lingering on the piece, but his gaze is totally capturing her senses and thought process, as he tilts his head to the side and has a _concerning_ look, rise on his face, "Tell me, do you think I belong here?"

Shock is evident on her face, the second he says those words. She hadn't expected a question like that to come from anyone in White-Ivy, especially those shackled and bound behind the tall walls, for certainly if you cannot leave this place, one must understand exactly why. 

The Sister's calculations are put to the test against Kylo Ren, and no longer is it just used for the game between them, which seems to be nothing but a ploy in keeping them both there, discussing chaotic wonders as if they weren't on different sides of a invisible and guarded fence. 

Kylo Ren is intelligent beyond his bewitching phrases which he almost asks so casually, as if he was a poet singing his favourite piece. Now again, she was utterly ashamed at herself for many, many reasons – but the tiny devoted need to stay in his cruel eye-line, was incomprehensible. 

There was a faithless hoax in her mind, breaking into the crevices and curves of her brain as if his hands had broke open her skull and plucked out her faith, in which her soul was currently betraying as she slowly swallowed and glanced back to his lips, thinking about how they tasted. 

He looked as if he didn't belong here – his beauty was too angelic to be followed around by dark shadows, but it seemed as if he, _himself,_ had brought them all here. She wondered if what his good-looks were currently doing to her, was his secret power and he used it for evil, luring in all those other victims of his? 

White-Ivy was not a good place to be in, and if a patient had been sentenced to a lifetime behind the gated fences, you must definitely belong here... 

She bites softly on her bottom lip as she considers his question, all while carelessly moving another white piece on the board. Then looking back up, her lips are now pursed and her eyes are narrowed, 

"Well – Judging by some of the things which I have heard that you did, I wouldn't protest to your sentence here," She retorted blankly, only briefly feeling a sharp pang in her chest which struck her with resentment for saying such brutal words, to a brutal man – she wasn't here to slander his doings, she was here to brush away the darkness and find the good in all. 

No longer did the other insane patients watch the pair in the back corner, for nothing could capture their attention quite like the scratches in the tables and the slop of bland food in their trays. Only now, did the older, more experienced guard keep his eyes on them, and although he couldn't hear just what the formally presumed, totally mute psychopath that he had been guarding, was now remarkably saying to the young woman – he didn't quite like that she was listening so intently. 

Kylo Ren shook his head and huffed a small breath of laughter, his pink tongue poking out of his mouth and licking the dry lip below, keeping it wondrously glazed and inviting. 

"Just because a judge said that I did a couple of bad things, doesn't mean that I am insane." He commented, his fingers pointed and moving to add emphasis to his next words, _"A criminal?_ Maybe. _But criminally insane?_ Well, between only you and I... I definitely do not belong here."

His tone slowed towards the end and then he moved another piece on the board, this time, his chains knocking the aisle of pawns on her side, over.

She was quick to readjust the white's positions, eyes trained on the row of pawns to which were slowly, one by one, moving forward and leaving the more powerful playing pieces, vulnerable to his bold moves of black.

"... And neither do you." Kylo Ren added slowly, watching her gamble and move a bishop, purely because she wasn't expecting him to say something, quite like that. 

Her cheeks turned red and a hot rise ran through her body, leaving her to want nothing more than to be able to tie her drapes around her own waist, the way he wore his jumpsuit, and have the cold air flush against her scorching skin.

Madness and mania was something far easier to label those who walked these halls, and she knew or at least now, hoped, that she was anything but insane – but suddenly, she pondered what right minded person, religious or not, would ever sit and play a game of chess with a convicted killer?

"Me? I most certainly belong here, this is what the Lord has chosen for me. I was brought here to enlighten those who need it, and pave my own path along the way to taking my vows." She said slow and indifferently, trying to hide the puzzled expression upon her face, and replace it with a contentment of offence. 

This would be the perfect time to boast a goodbye and move seats, but still, she only sat still with the rosary now sitting in her lap, and her eyes watching Kylo intently, as if she was waiting or trying to figure out something. 

He was _strange,_ that was to be certain – and yet, his calm demeanour still seemed out of place. Kylo Ren only shrugged, but there was a sly smirk starting to raise on the corners of his dried lips. Why he hadn't gotten a tray to eat, nor a drink yet, was also _strange..._ but he only seemed to be indulging on the antics of the game, or the conversation. 

She wasn't a jury, but all at once, she realised that she wanted to draw her own conclusions, before asking the Lord how she could possibly help Kylo Ren, or more-so, _herself –_ for since the first time she had met him, she couldn't get him out of her head. 

He knocked another pawn of white, off the board and replaced it with black. 

She sighed, "Why would you even think that about me, anyway?" 

If only the ignorant woman knew just why the convicted, psychotic killer hadn't been let out of his cell for the first couple of days, and was refusing to eat in this very moment. Kylo Ren had been infatuated with the Sister who's hands were so warm to his cold flesh and heart, since day one, out of nine in total.

The guards hadn't let him out of his confinements, and often left the light off – but that was totally okay with him. He spent the dark hours thinking about her lips, scratching at the walls to find the right name for her beauty, refused to eat the second half of his meals, for it tasted bland compared to the sweetness of her virgin kiss, and even touched himself with cold hands, pretending they were warm... and if she knew that, Kylo was certain that would make her leave, causing a funny resentment in his soul at the crosses on the walls, and the one in her lap.

Nuns are forbidden to receive any sort of pleasure, and that idea made Kylo's skin crawl, for the enchanting, innocent woman, who was utterly terrible at playing chess... was devoted to another man. _One,_ who wasn't him. _One,_ who was the most sacred of them all – and Kylo Ren was never the man who knelt down to competition, it only fuelled him to do better, to win life's unbeknownst and insane, game... _If only she knew._

He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came. Kylo Ren's words had been captured by the simple, Sister in front of him – who's name was unbeknownst, but he didn't want to know it, for he had the perfect one for her.

Patient 727's jaw tenses, only to relax as he finally finds his voice, "Because the Lord doesn't create people like you..." 

She's obviously taken aback, her hands fleeing to her lap to suddenly grasp back onto her rosary, in case she was about to face the dangers of perfidy, but it was too late, the angel on her shoulder often reminded her – for she had already allowed herself to be violated by his seduction. 

"Excuse me?" She remarked, cocking a brow beneath her veil.

He kept that menacing smirk upon his face, ignoring her offence and adding to his last retort, "The Devil does."

The fear returned again, but it was sedated in her veins and not as strong as it was before... as if she was drugged as much as everyone else here. Frozen crisp to the white bone, her legs began to shake beneath her clothes, and her heart felts as if it was about to stop working all together with the mere disregard coming from Kylo Ren.

She had never heard someone so carelessly utter something so devilish before, and the handsome man only did it with a smirk and pensive, evil gleam in his eyes, as if the horned _bastard_ had truely, possessed his soul.

Before she could react in horror, Kylo Ren had already moved another chess piece and began to elaborate, "There aren't many young girls in the world like you. Both enchantingly beautiful, but overall willed by their own heart and mind, rather than the mimicking of the hands in which try to capture their reverence." He states in a monotone voice, even sighing in a break, "But, I can definitely see that despite your little necklace and modest clothes, you wish that you could be fiercely independent, and beholden to no man."

Her eyes widen even more. Patient 727 clearly sees the surprise and bewilderment inside the reverie of colour, she was slightly afraid but more-so struck with a coquettish blush – the same that would heat up a teenager's cheeks when her crush would complement them boringly. 

She truely must be a virgin maiden, if the clothes and commitment to her Lord hadn't stated that to him enough... but that was what he was hoping for. This magnificent angel would be his pure dove to cradle with his cruel hands of devilish touches – Kylo knew that he could break her, but that only added more fun to the dangers. He would be all of her firsts and lasts. He was going to be her everything and all, no godly man could take her away from his stalking claws now.

It was as if everything she was working for, had crashed the moment her faith was finally enlightening. She had never been the best in the monastery, for she often questioned the religion, which was considered committing apostasy, so she merely kept those ghostly criticisms to herself – until finally, only months ago, she fought with bravery and cursed away those oppositions.

Kylo Ren was the darkness to her sudden light, stealing her breath and often clouding her mind like a raging storm, despite the fact that they had only met once before – but it only took one strike for a battleship to sink beneath the waves of a war, and she could only feel the water lapping at her feet and rising to her ankles. 

His arrival to White-Ivy, _though on the same day as her's,_ reminded her of one of the first days spent in the monastery. After being punished for her sharp tongue and refusal to be enlightened, she had been smacked on the back of her hands with rulers and then forced to scrub the grout out of the courtyard bricks during lunchtime.

And after spending so long, slaving away with bruised hands and tears in her eyes, just when the floors were almost completely clean, an older girl had casually waddled in and kicked over the dirty bucket of water – sending it to tumble and spill over the squeaky clean surface.

She was the squeaky clean surface, Kylo Ren was the dirty bucket of water – and she was not going to allow him to tip all over her and ruin her time spent at White-Ivy, just because he was hauntingly handsome, but twisted in the mind. 

The young Sister swipes those thoughts away before the dark memories of her early life, rise to the surface and the close observing patient can see the sorrow cross her face.

"Are you suggesting that I am a woman who has no faith? That I truely do not believe in my Lord and the sacrifices he made to cherish my life?" She stares at the rippled skin of his scarred face and then to his eyes, "Excuse me, _Kylo Ren,_ but I am remarkably offended by your ignorant assumptions of me. I do not know you, and honestly, I don't want to even attempt know you, now."

There's a silence between them for a few, suspended seconds. Her heaving chest felt as if it was filling with concrete and weighing her guts down. With brittle effort, she shook her head at her wasted outburst and uncurled her hands from around the necklace, looking down to the ball-like indents in her palms, after this whole time they had been tightly clamped around the rosary.

With Kylo Ren's pensive silence dawning over the chessboard, the young Sister nervously exhaled a breath which she didn't realise that she was holding and tears her eyes back to the checkered squares. Her jaw only drops when she sees his dark queen on her side of the board, he was clearly winning. 

She scoffs and pathetically tries to block his queen with her bishop – and that's the moment when Kylo Ren erupts into a low, booming laugh. 

"And... you just proved my point." He chortled, knocking off the bishop with his queen but keeping his face turned only on her, "There's a hint of fire in your eyes, and fight in your heartbeat, I can almost hear it. You are not subservient, and though you kneel before your saviour every-night and every-morning, I believe that if you truely had not an ounce of sin in your soul..."

He slowed, furrowing his brows and running his tongue along the pink of his smirk. He can almost hear the gears turning inside the girl's brain, trying so desperately to figure out what he may be leaving hanging from his sentence for so long, as a mischievous gleam bites away at the darkness of his dilated pupils.

His tongue slips back into his mouth and the scar upon his face contorts and stretches with every move of his lips, "You wouldn't have touched yourself all those nights ago, and thought about only me as you did it."

The look he gave to her after he said those words made the Sister extremely uncomfortable. Sharp, and burning with intensity. She was shocked to the core, frightened to her frazzled and stricken nerves.

She was called out so coldly, and though it was a sin to lie, she had to refuse the Lord's benefit and attempted to save her morality . It was like he knew her better than she even did – and as she sat so petrified before him, the guard in the corner was the only one, other than Kylo Ren, who noticed the shifted imbalance of power. 

Kylo Ren was miraculously in charge of the emotions swirling in her chest and the only solidity was in his calm, pacific composure – almost as if she was the patient and he was a doctor who's job was to search her mind and pluck out the sins. 

"I did not." She lied between seething teeth, eyes wide and leaning in as if the less space between them, meant less space to carry her voice to prying ears.

Countless apologies are looping in her mind to her God, and now she's certain that tomorrow, she will have to wake up extra early to countlessly beg for forgiveness in the sanctuary. 

The dark haired man hummed under his breath and only then, did she notice how broad his shoulders were in that fitted, dirty singlet – it is as if the Lord is _almost_ tempting her.

"Oh – you didn't?" He raised his eyebrows and said with a sarcastic tone, "Now, I must admit... I was only guessing when I said that, but the crimson of your cheeks tells me that you _may_ be lying, and my assumptions _may_ be nothing but correct."

Her face fell slowly and his words sting something inside, back awake and the emotion thrashes against her violently. The _to-be_ bride of Christ felt stunned, shocked and unsettled, all at once and together, they were like gasoline to her heart and memory as he so blatantly refers to her disheveled features and lies.

Her faith and mind has been completely paralysed by him, and the clock on the wall seems to pause as the embarrassment ticks in the beat of her heart. He licks his lips lightly, and her eyes dart to the pink tongue that etches out to his bottom lip, glistening it in a shine slowly and then returning again.

The trees outside started to bend and swirl as the wind picked-up and rain began to whip against the window, removing any warmth that isn't boiling in her unsettled stomach. Lightning flashes and thunder boomed, a dangerous storm coming closer and closer – it was as if God was listening and ready to punish her. 

Once again, Kylo Ren didn't even flinch when lightning struck the courtyard grounds out the window, nor whimper like the rest of the patients did at the vibrating boom which followed – the Sister was starting to actually think over her previous accusations. Maybe, he wasn't insane, but instead, he lacked a soul.

"Don't be embarrassed..." He said now, as if he could read her mind as easily as he reads her movements and reactions, "Everyone's a little damaged. Surely, your little Lord won't strike you with lightening for your sins and kill you on the spot if he really _loved_ you."

This time, it is Patient 727 who breaks eye contact, and as he turns his head to glance at the havoc outside the window, he grins, for he can still see her reflection upon the glazed pane. She was so delicate to his roughness. Perfect skin, enchanting eyes, and mystical hands. She was glorious in all of her bounty, even if most of her true curves and body was hidden by the thick black materials she wore. 

In the reflection, to him, it seemed as if she was actually out there in the rain, and he imagined the way she would look if a huge gust of wind blew her habit and veil from her head. He pictured what her soaked hair might look like, and then how long it might seem as it stuck to her bare, wet skin. 

"You are literally insane," She continued to stare at his turned face, spitting the words and seemingly not caring about the hatred in her tone, which was a clashing to the unwanted desire in her innocent heart.

That wasn't the first time in which somebody had said that to him. He heard it from the jury and judge, all of his victims, and even the whispering voices of the tiny Devil on his shoulder – the evil force who _made_ him commit the heinous and ungodly acts that lead him straight here. 

He looked back to her again and tilted his head, noticing that in the time he had spent glancing out the window, she had taken her turn of moving a chess piece in front of her endangered queen – clearly not seeing the black bishop of his, heading straight to the white king beside her queen.

"Like I said –" He bites back another smile, but seems to give up before continuing, "Everyone's a little damaged. Everyone's got the Devil's touch."

Faint wrinkles formed beside his eyes when he smiled, but there were no indentations left in his perfect skin to prove that he often did so – leaving the young woman to believe that he lived a dark life in the shadows, with a gloomy, stoic expression upon the marble of his face, always.

Once again, those tantalising words in which he had first spoken to her, ring like chimes of a church in her mind, only this time, with the addition of what he had last said only now, she remembers the question he had asked shorty after...

 _"Do you touch yourself with those enticing_ _fingers of yours?"_ She remembers him asking, with that gruelling smile on his bleeding face, _"Or are you waiting for the Devil to pleasure your soul?"_

Desperate exigency shot right through her system at the memory, which had treacherously and regrettably, become the fire of her chaste loins, whilst the adrenaline in her blood only kept rising rapidly. Every inch of her skin beneath her robes, felt as if it was blazing as if the static lightening from outside, was bubbling in her veins like electricity in doused water. _  
_

This had been the longest lunch shift since she had arrived, but there was something in her which didn't want Kylo Ren to leave, for despite his twisted words and the reaction he could get from them, she hadn't had a proper conversation in so long which wasn't with either Darlot or a drooling, babbling patient.

She rolls her eyes, "So, now you think that I have been _touched_ by the Devil?"

If only Kylo Ren knew just how much she wished that she wasn't wearing robes of black and was overthinking her faith once more, all because she craved to taste the pink of his lips again, and truely let the Devil touch her – things in which, she will never let happen, but she was still slightly terrified that both the Lord and Kylo Ren, could actually read her imaginative and traitorous mind.

She almost wishes that she was exempt from this role at lunchtime, and she could enjoy the serendipity of a cigarette, like some patients and the guards did, in a feeble attempt to numb herself – but even if she was allowed to smoke, she knew that she wouldn't be able to breathe in the smog and keep it in the health of her lungs, for even the smell of the dining hall was enough to make her throat scratch.

Kylo Ren follows her eyes to a patient who sat in the other corner of the hall, watching the filtered and rolled tobacco sit between his lips and the delicious smoke which formed like tendrils in the cold air. 

"Hm, that _is_ a good question," He mumbles distantly to the woman before him, his own throat feeling scratchy, but only because he wanted nothing more than to get up from his seat, storm over to the other patient and take the packet of smokes from his pocket. 

The Sister's eyes move back to him, and for the first time, the small smile which forms on her face is unbothered, "One which you don't have the answer to," She contested, suddenly feeling confident because she knew lunch was about to be over, and if Kylo Ren really wanted to kill her, he wouldn't have much time to do it... today.

He turns back to her and watches her make another wrong move upon the chessboard – her gameplay was almost painful to watch, and he had seen multiple terrible things in his lifetime.

"No, I do. I'm just not sure that you're ready to hear the truth yet," He shakes his head and says blankly

His mind was fuzzy as he tried to focus back on the girl in the veil. Everything felt so strange and his body still slightly ached from the nights when he couldn't keep bitterly quiet anymore, and only motioned in a guard, just so he could throw his fists into something that wasn't his cell walls. 

Grazes are sprawled all across the whites of his knuckles, and the silver which shines around his wrists is a contrast to the scarlet, but the punishment for not being trusted even in confinements – no matter where Kylo Ren could go, he will be forever considered dangerous and feared, and yet, she still hadn't kept her gaze away from him. 

Though, she does feel a pinch of concern when she eventually notices the cuts on his fists, presuming that they most definitely resulted in him laying punches. It was clear that her protected bubble that she once lived in, had been popped a thousand times over since arriving to White-Ivy, and she had never before considered that people could ever be so wicked. 

She knows that she should still be weary, but it now seemed that she more feared getting the spit of a drooling patient upon her drapes, rather than the snide remarks and sly observations from the cruelest killer in the manor. 

"Now, _like I said..._ you don't actually know me," She chimed with a smirk of her own, only for a second wondering where it came from. 

She stared back to Kylo Ren, noticing that his eyes weren't so devoid of emotion like before. There was a hint of something, but she couldn't quite place her finger on what it might just be, "Do me the honours then, Kylo Ren, tell me the truth that I _need_ to hear. Enlighten me." She contested, almost as if she was finally playing a part in his little game, instead of allowing him to just _play_ her.

Kylo Ren smirks at his bishop once more, and then flicks his eyes back at her before spreading his shackled hands as much as they can from each-other, to motion around the room.

"Take a look around," He said with a low tone, as his words were only ever intended for her to hear, as his shackled clanged back to the table and he leaned in as she literally glanced around with an impeccable innocence. 

"– Every single person in this hall, has been brutally touched by the Devil. Some scarred by witnessing his cruelty, and others damaged to the point of no return by his sharp claws, which have been embedded into their minds and then scrambled into nothing but mush." Kylo Ren explains, leaning upon his elbows as again, his tongue runs along his bottom lip.

His eyes still shined with something that she couldn't tell whether it was illuminated because of the flashes of lightening out the window, or because there was something sinister burning behind the brown, "And you? _Yes,_ you have been touched by the devil too... but in the kindest way possible. It is as if even Lucifer, himself, cherishes your bounty and doesn't want to damage it, but instead, _cradle it."_

A sharp shiver ricochets down the Sister's spine, clinging and clanging against each bone loudly in her own sudden sting of astonishment. 

_This has to be some sort of ploy,_ she thinks to herself, _there is no possible way that Kylo Ren is actually saying those words seriously, this has to be the way he lured his victims in._

Her heart heaves inwards as if it is trying to cower away and suddenly, her mind wants to quickly dissociate from her hidden body. She sucks a sharp, brittle breath into her lungs and even the air feels impossibly hot, despite the millions of goosebumps on her skin and the pink of her cold nose. 

In her silence, Kylo fills the space, finally moving his bishop forwards and placing it in the final position, where even the rest of his pieces are enough to leave her white king piece, with nowhere to go. She was trapped completely, just like how his mysterious demeanour had kept her seated here this whole time. His eyes called checkmate, but he wasn't particularly thinking about _that_ game anymore.

"Though, the Devil is the worst of us all, and patience isn't his virtue. He's definitely got a grip on you, and overtime, he will become nothing but impatient and turn you just like everyone else here. _Damaged."_ He said, as her jaw dropped at her losing battle. 

His smirk only rose higher into the constellation of marks upon his cheek, which had been slightly left unscathed by the torn skin, "Not even your Lord can save you now."

She gasped at his checkmate and leaned in on her own elbows now, the rosary strung around the crease of her inner elbow and dangling down to her thigh. He eyes the shining silver cross and how it grazes the material above her flesh – she only wonders how he had managed to corner her in, without her ever realising. 

Patient 727 can't help but lean in a little closer, his chest digging into he edge of the table as with such little space between them now, he can almost smell her. The guard in the corner grips a little harder on his baton, only for it to loosen again when he watches the ignorant Sister, look back up to Kylo and sink away. 

She swallows against the tightness of her throat, for she could feel the heat even radiating off him, and his breath fan her face. Then furrowing her brows, she finally thinks over the patients previous words and tilts her head to the side, "And, why wouldn't God be able to save me?" She asks, like she had often questioned her religion before – but why she was asking a shockingly, numb, patient from White-Ivy Penitentiary, was beyond her faith's secret ripostes. 

Unlike her, _if it wasn't already obvious,_ Kylo Ren had never concurred a life doused in light and prosperity. The bible was all nonsense to him and anyone who says differently is either a fool or a liar, who though they say they are good, always seem to want something bad. To him, crosses were just silly necklaces around some of his victim's neck's, to which he would tug on it and twist it around their airways until either they broke, or the chain snapped instead.

But, never in his wildest dreams, did Kylo expect that a beautiful woman who presumed that her life was owed to nobody but the man in those pages – the one with dark, shadowed eyes, a pursed, crimson mouth, and a necklace that was beyond devout, would be the one that captures his attention and reverence, unlike any biblical, holy-ghost, hoax, ever could.

She was the most beautiful thing in this entire grey world, she was the sun of night, or the lonesome red apple of a garden – and an enchanting woman such as herself, deserved a name which lived up to the silent disregard that she somewhat held for her religion, which he could see, as if he could peer through her drapes, skin and bones, just to shine a light on the strange, dark, doubt living in the angelic vessel.

"Because both the Lord and the Devil, share the same heart and ignorance, and even God made mistakes..." Patient 727 eventually says, his eyes scanning her slowly, "The beautiful and mystical, _Eve,_ being one of his first."

Her lips tremble, allowing the silence to return for a couple of heartbeats as her surroundings begin to twist and warp around her, but he was the ultimate focus in the middle of all the blur. He drags his eyes all over her face and her skin only turns redder as the time goes on. It's as if he assesses her like she would try to understand the bible, eyes focussed but mind, scattered.

It's not even documented if Eve was indeed saved by her creator, the only information out there is that after Eve ate the forbidden fruit, her and Adam were casted out of Eden for their treachery against God – but his words made it seem as if he knew something secret about the ending.

Eve was said to believe that the tree, 'was pleasant to the eyes,' and all at once, she realised that Kylo Ren was the lust to her own. Satan uses the apple as his own twisted trap to try to get Eve to entertain fantasies in her internalised greed – and perhaps, Patient 727 was brutally touched by the Devil, to a point where he lost the real part of himself, and replaced it with a hooded veil of a figure... and him entirely, was going to be her downfall.

But when she sees the slight rise of a coy smirk, all her worries begin to lose volume and she only pays attention to the subtle movement of his rising chest, with that singlet against it, almost as a second, thin skin. 

There was something in her, that was attracted to Kylo Ren – as disgusting as that sounds – and she had no idea how she was suppose to strip it away from her, for it was so deep and chaotic. She didn't know what this feeling in her chest was, but she knew the cause of it _– Kylo Ren –_ seemed to be both, a blessing and a curse. 

Suddenly, she realised that her innocence was a vulnerability to his predatory and devilish ways, but still, she left her vehemence out on a platter for him to pick from and indulge, whilst his table lay empty from the slop the penitentiary served. 

Only once since she had arrived to White-Ivy, did she go back to her old habits and questioned the realness of God, and the existence of Christ... and that was the very first day, after she had met Patient 727. 

And just like that very night, once again, she will have to apologise to her Lord later – for she is in a current crisis of faith. 

"Then, how would _you_ suggest that I escape the trappings upon me?" She whispers to the dangerous patient, who sat so close, across from her. 

Her white king piece is still standing upon the chessboard, but all at once, Kylo Ren knocks the white off the board with his bishop, and takes its place. Then pushing the board to the side, he drops something on her edge of the table. It was his black, king piece and all at once, she took it as a symbol for secret and perilous, propinquity and maniacal lenience.

The patient no longer smiles, nor smirks in the way that he had done so, nearly this whole time. There's a stoic expression upon his brilliant, stone-like face again – resembling the way he looked after the guards had kicked him to the ground, and he just knelt there and assessed all the ways he could escape... _until he saw her._

This is the pride of life. Satan wants us to desire to be exalted, to develop an attitude of arrogance... and arrogant and evil, Kylo Ren always was – but remarkably, he didn't crave to see the blood drain from the colour of her face and eyes, but he preferred to be the one to see it heat in the apple's of her cheeks.

 _Eve_ had a choice to make... she could believe God's word or Satan's word. The dark haired man, was the snake to his Eve, whispering the words of capturing and trying to build a resentment for her God, who would never care for her, as much as Kylo could – and if everything goes to plan, and she sees the true enlightenment, Patient 727 promises to _only_ himself, that he would show her so much more.

_So long as she helps him get the Hell, out of these chains and then through the gated fence._

Kylo Ren leans closer across the table, elbows digging into the surface and his legs are no longer bent, but he is almost standing over the young, and foolish Sister – _his Eve._

Just when the guard in the corner grips tightly back onto his baton and begins to cross the hall, and over to the pair, is when Kylo gives her a serious look – and suddenly, she sees the warning in his dark, brown eyes.

She can almost taste his breath upon her tongue, and smell the sweetness of his musk as he speaks to her only once more, before the guard interrupts and takes him back to his dark cell for the rest of the day...

_"You get out of here before both the Lord and the Devil's servants, scramble your mind and then bury your corpse in this wicked place."  
_


	4. THREE

The ghastly black shade of nightfall brought an ominous and eerie evocative to White-Ivy Manor. 

The brickyards had been slayed with a purposeful chill, and the tall, barricaded windows, had been embellished with a slight glaze of mist – which although, it fogged up the outside world, it wasn't thick enough to muffle the screams from within.

Across the yards and through the gated fencing, is the east-wing, which though it is still connected by only a few hundred paces from the west – the difference between both sides, is a haunting drastic.

The young Sister had managed to battle the constant toss and turns of a restless night, but eventually, she manages to work through the west-wing's ongoing, howls and aggrieved cries, and falls into a deep sleep upon her new bed – where the mattress is so thin, the bruises in her spine often leave her wondering if there was even a purpose for the sheet of foam, which only moulded around the metal frames and slats beneath it. 

She dreams of nightmares, where brown eyes hunt her from the shadows and long, white fingers snap her faith into tiny shards, only to then use those pointed edges to slice her undefiled flesh open, and bury her heart beneath murky, soiled dirt. 

_Suddenly, a thundering sound awoke her._

The Sister shivered, freezing in her own skin when her eyes shot open and searched for the glowing eyes from her dreams in the dark spaces of her room. The weather was peaceful this night, but there was still a slight rustle to the tall trees outside her small window. It could've been just another scream that she had heard, _another_ harrowing and demonic roar from the west-wing – but just as she clung onto her scratchy and thin blanket, there was another round of banging... upon her door. 

She gasped and all the hair on her body stood up for attention, even the little fly-aways upon her head of locks, where without the thick, black veil of her habit-attire, it cascaded around her frightened features. 

Her heart began to beat louder than any deathly scream, but it shouted and thrashed in the cages of her chest, instead of the cells of White-Ivy. Still in the groggy state of waking up, she couldn't quite tell if this reality was another nightmare, and when the door began to slowly open, she somewhat expected the alluring but utterly insane, Kylo Ren to walk in. 

The door croaked and scraped against the floors, which squeaked beneath the entry of polished shoes. Tears stung at her eyes, but in her frozen state, she made no effort to blink, nor wipe the water when it began to silently fall down her chilled cheeks. Knees hugged against her chest, she leaned back against the metal frame of her bed – which beneath her weight, made as much sound as the floors did, pointing her out in the shadows, even if the slight ray of moonlight, wasn't already magnifying upon her terror in the corner. 

Squinting through the smog of black, she tries to identify the silhouette of a man, who had sharp shoulders and a tall, straight stance – two little voices in the back of her mind were already screaming a name, which became a traitorous battle to both sides, on whether to stay or run away from the patient who had so easily slipped into her dreams, as he had slipped into her mind, throughout the day too.

But then the figure steps into the haze of moonlight, which snuck through her window – and although her fears immediately flee from her body, a mere flow of _somewhat_ slander of disappointment snuck in, only for a new, harsh emotion to then smack every other feeling away and shackle her tight with utter confusion. 

Her hair, undone and tangled, curtained her face as strands stuck to her teary cheeks, which moved slow as she raised a brow and uttered into the darkness, "Father Hux?"

The Priest's eyes widened slightly, meeting the Sister's groggy stare. Father Hux was completely dressed in his usual attire of black drapes and a clerical collar around his pale neck, where in the moon's eerie illumination, his slicked back, orange hair almost blended into the white of his skin.

With icy-blue eyes running along the waves of her hair in the night, time seemed to suspend for a short moment, until Father Hux finally smiled and bowed his head meekly.

"My deepest apologies for waking you up so late in the night," He hushed and side-stepped along a creak in her floor, folding his arms behind his back and running his fingers along the silver of his pectoral cross.

Her cheeks went impossibly red and her stomach churned with mortification as she tried to hide her face behind her hair, which was only then pulled behind her ears as she watched the way he eyed the strands so anomalously – this was the first time anyone here had seen her without her veil, and out of all people it had to be the priest. 

But he seems to ignore the immodesty, for he was the one, himself, that had walked into her tiny quarters so early in the dark morning of a cold, Friday – but the time of day never mattered to him, for he would simply reprise that the wicked do not sleep, and it is his duty to always shine a light in the dark.

He tilts his head slightly to the side, his eyes moving to the window instead of falling once more on her vulnerable state, "But would you mind getting dressed and accompanying me in the western ward? We seem to acquire your help." He said in a calm tone, almost lacking emotion completely but rather his words were hinted with a sense of _urgency..._

Her heart was pumping ice cold blood through her veins and chilling every inch of her skin with every vibrating echo that bounces off the walls of the west-wing as she follows Father Hux to wherever he leads her to. He hadn't said much after requesting her presence, but he rather nodded after she had obeyed to his request with a straight face, and erratic apprehensions.

With her mind running rampant to fill the blanks of her fears, wondering just what Father Hux needed her for, there wasn't a single slate of her tired and feeble mind, that wasn't anxiously forming terrifying scenarios – which are so ridiculous sometimes, that she might as well claim insanity and lock herself in the cages that she passes. 

She felt as if she had no choice but to peel herself out of bed and quickly get dressed in her black veils, for not even the Lord appreciates incomprehensible weaklings – but with a gentle push of enlightenment, He may speak through the opening of clouds and whistles of cold wind, to which perhaps, He would say to pluck some courage and do the duty that many do not have the heart to complete... but what that duty was, was still left unanswered as they curled around a corner and began walking onwards into the halls of thrashing shouts and horrific screams.

Walking so shakily behind the quick pace of Hux, the young Sister almost felt shackled to him, and with every face that would peer through the tray slots of every cell-door, she moved closer to him. The trepidation ricocheted down her spine, like a clang of a thousand rocks being thrown upon her. With every step, she felt a tug at her heels, which painfully willed her to go back to her own cell, and hide beneath the scratchy blanket once more. 

Eventually, Father Hux lead her straight into the mouth of the ward where only the most _dangerous_ patients stayed, and preternaturally enough – it was the most quiet hall that they had tip-toed down.

Never in her stay at White-Ivy, did she think that she would ever step through the doors that lead to the home of a hundred of the worst people alive – the castaways of the Lord, _Himself,_ who had now bestowed Father Hux and her, the struggle of turning them back to the light, before the darkness swallowed them whole and pulled them down to the depths of Hell, where they truely belonged.

If the air wasn't so cold, and the feeling in her chest wasn't so painfully tight, she would still presume this to be a terrible, but strange nightmare, for all at once, she knew where she was headed... and she hated the tenacious part of her soul, which forced her steps to slightly quicken.

Tall and sloped windows barricaded all around the manor, which depicts beautiful murals in the daylight, where the sun's bright rays usually sink through the coloured stained-glass,– but at night, the holy faces in the windows were swallowed up by the darkness and expelled an spectral gaunt to their kaleidoscopic glass, making it seem as if they were the true lifeless phantoms of the manor.

The lights flicker the deeper they walk into the smothering quiet. With only slight illumination to the halls, there was too much black around which made her eyes morph ahead of her, and see shadows in which were truely not there – the young Sister had solemnly sworn to herself, that she had already seen the silhouette of another man around every corner, and that the one ahead was just another trick being played on her tired mind, but the closer she and the Priest got to it, the more the light above casted upon the shapes in the distance.

When the cell doors began to thin out from the next, almost separating the patients further and further apart, it wasn't until the very last door, did a few guards mingle around – obviously awaiting the Priest, _and her,_ to arrive. 

"Any good news?" Hux spoke to the figures, who were still unfamiliar to the young Sister's eyes, until she finally met them in the glow of the light above, which sat at their heads like an almost, daunting halo.

There beneath the flickering light stood, two guards and Sister Darlot, who looked as white as a ghost, almost blending into the walls if it weren't for the pink upon her cheeks. 

"No –" The guard beside Darlot shook his head and said, the same Guard who followed Kylo Ren wherever he went. Tilting his head then to Darlot, he scowled, "He's still putting up a fight. Wouldn't even let the girl look at it."

Guard Roberts was an older man, the wrinkles among his face was the first give-away, but the lifeless look in his bland eyes were another. He's tall, but lacks the bulk which a large majority of his colleges have. Roberts was the very epitome of authority with his unloaded gun hanging idly at his hip, and his baton connected to his belt, which he had proved on numerous occasions, that he wasn't afraid to use. 

Many had whispered about him since the youngest of the group in the dark hallway, had arrived – it was conjectured that before his time at White-Ivy, he was a reputable sergeant for a small county a few miles away, which had minimal crime, and apparently that was a clashing to his constant ticking for conflict, to which lead to the finding out that on his dreary highway shifts, he had been loading his unused and unnecessary pistol, and shooting at the passing cows. 

Onwards, in the matter of a few years, he had managed to forget about his past and move up the ranks of security in White-ivy Penitentiary, which happened to be much more exciting to his thrill... especially when a murderous patient had supposably, stolen his packet of cigarettes that he left in his back pocket. 

Father Hux nodded slowly and knitted his ginger eyebrows together, forming a crease in the middle of his pale forehead, to form. 

"Well, let's just hope you're right, Sister Darlot." He sighed, turning his icy eyes to Darlot, who beneath all her drapes of black and veil, seemed to be shaking as much as the leaves outside the window were, which are barely hanging onto the branches of the trees.

The younger Sister, stood slightly off from the others and her head kept snapping between them, with every new person that hushed and spoke. She was utterly confused and her eyes were still somewhat stinging from a pensive tiredness that clung onto her heavy eyelids. She closed her eyes for a short moment and swallowed, just as Darlot began to whisper to Father Hux. 

"Father Hux, I'm not so sure what to do if this doesn't actually work." She said, her eyes flicking between both Hux, and the younger Sister, who's eyes snapped back open. 

Chills ran down the tired girl's spine, and her heart fluctuated oddly as she tried to understand what was happening, but there was a little voice in the back of her head which was already filling the blank, and assuming what was truely behind the dead-bolted door that they all seemed to huddle around.

Father Hux sighed sincerely and his shoulders dropped a little, "He will have to bleed out and deal with the scarring consequences."

Her breath hitched in the middle of her throat, "I'm sorry –" She suddenly interjected not being able to grasp onto the silence any longer and brave through the torcher of suspense, "Might I ask what is happening?"

Father Hux seemed to automatically stiffen, and a slow and drawn out, pensive silence loomed over the bundle of them. Hux then glances upward and turns back to the Sister by his side, his thin mouth pursed but slightly open and loose. His pale blue eyes look exceptionally dark tonight, almost matching the material of his drapes and the silver chain of his cross, matching the sly of his quick tongue – but she was yet to notice the hidden demeanour behind his mask of faith. 

"Patient 727 has reopened his facial stitches," He says slowly, his words pausing before the next as if he is clearly thinking them over before speaking them aloud, "He got in an... _alteration,_ and won't stop being violent with both the guards and nurses."

His eyes are fixed as if he's looking at something a thousand miles behind her own. The Sister's predictions and the hushed divination from her soul, had been completely right – but that didn't mean she still wasn't thrown into a clash of both timid, crushing nerves, and a drowning of distress.

She swallows down the sudden rise of a lump in her throat, but as it sinks to the swirl of her stomach, it feels as if she is swallowing shards of glass.

"And?" She asks, but she is already fabricating a new prophecy, in which Father Hux will give to her shortly. There had to be a reason in which she was here, standing outside Kylo Ren's cell, and by the lack of noise around, a slight blush rose to her cheeks as she wondered for a second, if _he_ was listening. 

Father Hux blinks and refocuses back into reality, and away from the trappings of his supposed virtuous mind, which upon a mere glance at the young girl, had wandered back to the memory of her hair flowing down the red of her cheeks.

He clears his throat, "And... Darlot had mentioned that he seemed to look the calmest she had ever witnessed him to be, when he was with _you."_

She clenched her mouth shut, to the point where even her jaw tensed and ached a little. There was no point arguing with the group of people around her, for two of them had watched the way Kylo Ren stalked into the back of the dining hall and sat across from her, as if it was a small-town cafe and she was a new face that he had never seen before. 

Darlot interjects when she notices the flash of confusion smack across the other Sister's face, "– During lunch, the other day... when you were playing chess." She explains, as if that is going to help – but it isn't any help, for now the Sister's mind is panicking, knowing clearly that whatever is happening, cannot be deemed good, nor virtuous.

No matter how much her mind wavered through the darkness and to the dawning of day, it still couldn't seem to get the glow of Kylo Ren's eyes, out of its memory's regalia – if other people around White-Ivy, ever found out about what Kylo Ren had said to her, to which she _actually_ listened to, or ever sought out the tiny hint of attraction she regrettably had for the murderous man... she wouldn't be surprised to be stripped from her veil and burdened with the life of a _sinner._

"I–I don't think that has anything to do with me," She shook her head and tried to smile, but her lips twinged awkwardly and shook with apprehension, "I think he was just bored and wanted to play chess?"

Father Hux squints his eyes in the shadows, "Hm." He hums, then raising his brows and continuing in an almost, bored tone, "Well, like I said – Patient 727 won't allow anyone to get close enough to his wound... we were hoping that perhaps you could attempt to mend to it, before it gets worse and leaves him with a _brutal_ infection?"

A dull tremor erupted throughout her system unceasingly when the worries laid like cement over her brittle bones. "You –" She stuttered, her mouth going exceptionally dry, "You want me to go in there alone?" 

Father Hux nodded, "Yes."

Darlot winced and looked away, fear building in her own veins as she recalls the ways Patient 727 had continuously threatened her and made her leave his cell, as if it was his home and she was trespassing – never in her many months spent at White-Ivy, had she ever feared a patient more than she was terrified of Kylo Ren. 

A horrid sensation seeped torturously into the newer Sister's heart and mind, striking her tired bones with the need to save herself from this situation and as her nerves ran over every possibility, it seems they only became jumbled in the messy knotting of her thread-like worries from before.

Her lips parted in sudden verity and when her soft features shifted into a dwindling expression of doom and vexation, she shook her head and uttered her round of excuses, 

"But, what if he tries to k–"

But Father Hux was too quick to cut her off, throwing up a pale hand in the air and silencing her completely with the sudden, menacing look upon his face... but the second she sees the gleam in his eyes, its gone and a soft smile is rising upon his face.

"Don't worry. He doesn't tolerate the guards, but we will all be waiting outside incase barbarity was to be inflicted upon you." He chimes, his voice forcibly considerate and gentle, "And, we will give you a syringe of sedative... _just incase you need to calm him down."_

She's trying her hardest to act normal with no hint of hesitations, but all at once, a shrilling fever elutes all over her thin skin and scorches, as everyone's eyes are upon her in this dreadful moment, where the lightbulbs above, flicker their blaze to her heated face.

"If the guards cannot sedate him, why would I be able to?" She retorted, and just as Hux opened his mouth to speak, another voice spoke instead.

"Because, I think he's taken a liking to you," Guard Roberts interjects with a sly, and somewhat ridiculing smirk. 

Father Hux fights the urge to not roll his eyes to the back of his head, and instead, turns to the older guard, who's pudgy fingers loitered around the silver of his handgun, which he never actually carried bullets for. 

"Let's not suggest crass blunderings, Roberts." Hux says flatly, then flicking his gaze back to the young Sister, "I am certain that she doesn't wish to think that someone as vulgar as Patient 727, finds comfort in _her..."_

Her eyes were trained on the spectre of the entrance, her heavy eyelids a fraction too slow to blink as the irises expanded and nearly shoved away all the fabricated light out of the world, the moment the prison door was unlocked, and she was practically pushed through the tiny opening, before there was enough time for the monster within to thrash out and attempt an escape. 

The cell was dimly lit by the moonlight, which crept through the barred window at the end of the square space. The floors had a strange grime to it, as if the rain from earlier days had managed to sink through the cracks in the ceilings and permanently find a home in the grout. The walls hadn't been scrubbed for years, that she could easily tell, but the scratches embedded in the cold stone, tried to cut the blood stains out of the surface, but eventually only left more behind to paint the black.

There was no tray slot in Patient 727's room, as did none of the other cells in the most dangerous corners of White-Ivy, for the Priest didn't think that someone as sinister as Kylo Ren, deserved gaps in his cage which allowed crisp air to loiter into his smothering box, or holes in which his fingers can reach out and escape his confinements. 

No – Kylo Ren's room was nothing but four walls and an un-openable window. There was a small bed, just like her's, but it was empty and just left the space for a thin blanket to cover the rusty-metal frame.

He didn't even have a pillow for his blood-stained pillowcase, which hung limp off the side of the bed-frame – the Sister felt her heart twinge with guilt as she remembered the way she often scoffed at her own quarters, which at least had feathered comforters, and instead of holding onto the Lord's blessing of gratitude, she found herself taunting her own basic necessities, when in reality, she shared a home with those who truely had nothing... but doesn't Kylo Ren _deserve_ nothing?

She felt fear bubble in her insides, and the ghost of a sting was invisibly slapped onto the back of her warm hands at the thought of her consequences if she ever said these thoughts aloud to Father Hux. Jesus did not preach torture, but surely the murky water that drips from the ceiling, isn't the drink of enlightenment... it's just hazardous. 

_Why would Father Hux even care to tend to Kylo's wounds, if the very cell he lives in, could give him the deathliest infection?_ She wondered to herself, as the syringe was tucked safely beneath the material of her sleeve, weighing her conscience down as much as her heart sunk to the cold, wet floor when she finally saw _him._

"Eve?" Kylo Ren whispered from the corner of the cell, his body hunched over himself, as he sat against the scratches in the wall of the far left, and had his bloodied hands curled over his knees. 

It's a ferocious cling of antagonism and conflict that results with him bringing a passion hotter than a thousand suns, whilst the reminder of her Lord's praise and destiny in which He had provided to her, are only the whispers of why she shouldn't lust after the deranged patient in the corner, the way she currently did upon the sight of his pale face and hands, which were richly smeared in blood.

She's done enough praying for forgiveness and saviour, but it seems her silent invocations, had been left wasted and repudiated – for she still can't get Kylo out of her mind, and her veins which lead to the crevasses of her now mangled, somewhat unhinged, heart.

The young Sister _– who Patient 727 had officially called her by her new name –_ Eve, blushed in the darkness and whispered his own name, "Kylo."

 _Eve,_ held a small first aid kit in her right hand, but the second that her eyes laid upon him, the continents inside began to rattle around the tin, as every limb connected to her body, started to timidly quiver. 

Hair of midnight black and a perfect pair of eyes to match beneath the framing of graceful brows. His skin was as pale as the moon's sorrowful shine, to which the complexion carried prominent cheekbones and a well-defined chin and nose, that together, was so chaotically jumbled, but it only added to his insane... _beauty._

Kylo Ren had made no effort to move when he saw the door to his cell open, for he was convinced this time that the voices on the other-side of the metal, was actually her – his precious Eve, and not just the demonic curses in which his own madness created again.

His heart skipped a beat and he didn't know why, but a grin formed on his face, the moment she took a step closer to him, and gazed to his pale hands, which had been smeared with a mangle of scarlets... some of his own, and some of the crimson which was punched out of the nose of a previous guard. 

She stuttered and began to carry the first aid kit with both hands, the sharp end of the syringe, jabbing into the skin of her curled wrist. 

"Y-Your hands..." Eve whispered. 

He shrugged from the floor, and his head fell slightly back and rested against the wall, "I'm fine," He said in a disinterested manner, as if the wounds upon both his face and hands, were the least of his problems. 

"No, you're not," She shakes her head, suddenly feeling as if she was trapped in a lion's den, and the only way in which she will be allowed out, is the sooner she feeds and tends to the animal, "You're bleeding."

Kylo Ren chuckles. He sat there and slid his hands from his knees, to his thighs, and only then did she notice the crumpled, wet and bloodied, packet of cigarettes in his left fist. 

"Did the church-man send you in to look at my hands or my face?" He slyly retorted, an amused smile forming upon his face, to which the blood slips through his soft lips and sinks between his white teeth. 

Blood seemed to follow Patient 727 around – it was carved into the walls, torn into the stone of his face, sunken beneath his short nails, peeling at the grazes of his knuckles, and even drying in the fabric of his uniform.

Although his new clothes had already been scratchy, now it felt rougher than ever against his toned body. He felt frustrated, the smell of the guard's blood, pestering his senses as he tried to push through all the murk and only see, breathe, smell, taste, _her._

A stray hair fell in-front of his glowing, roguish and troublesome eyes, but he made no effort to push it away, for he could easily see that the young Sister's focus was pulling in and out of reality. It was so dark, that she couldn't really see his face from this far, especially with all that blood upon the scar. 

She moved a step closer, "Your face," Eve said, her whole body going warm as she found the courage to kneel before him, her knees clicking in the silence and her first aid box, tapping on the damp floor. 

Now in this position, she was completely trapped – there were no silver chains upon his wrists anymore, and if he really wanted to, Kylo Ren could simply close the short amount of space between them and snap her bones in half... not even the syringe in her wrist could save her, but the most unnerving part about this whole situation was that ruefully, she wasn't _completely_ scared of what he could physically do to her, but what he could do to her mind with those poetic, dark words of his, and the attraction in his mere gaze.

Eve swallowed raggedly and glanced down to the first aid kit, clicking it open and inspecting the materials inside. There was a thin and short torch tucked beneath the gauze pads, which when she turned it on, she wasn't surprised by the little amount of light it actually brought, but rather, Kylo Ren's next words.

"Then, look me in the eyes."

Eve looked up at him again, warm hands holding onto a torch the width of three pencils. He searched for something, anything in the Sister's eyes to tell him what her secret words were, the words in her sane mind, which she didn't wish to truely give away... not to the Lord, and not to him either.

Swirling in her enchanting orbs was... purity, innocence. Like her soul was untouched by the evil of the world, and she did not know the truth about people, in the many ways he did. He didn't wish to burden her honour and morality, but it seemed as if he already had in the short span that their dark and light, paths had crossed. 

His little Eve, didn't know that human beings were tainted with ill-intent and negativity. She held a look one would only find in a young child, but never an adult, never anyone who had lived a day in the real world and trudged through the dirt and grime of the sickly mortals of mankind. 

She was a blank slate, but since a young age, her pages had been constantly shoved into the bindings of a bible, a treatise in which she didn't particularly wish to reprint the eulogies onto her own canvas... this, Kylo Ren could easily tell, for he was the best at _reading_ people, no matter how much lucidity they lack on their surfaces. 

He squints his eyes slightly as she raises the torch to his face, but the light isn't enough to burn a halo in his gaze, for it is so dim, "You just woke up?" He asks, as Eve tries to look past the blood upon his face, and to the scar beneath it, without touching him. 

She could almost taste the metallic of his blood on her own tongue, the smell was so pungent in the small space between them. His demeanour is shockingly calm, letting her briefly think over Father Hux and Guard Robert's words, before they eventually forced her into the cell. 

There could be a possibility that Kylo Ren had taken a liking for her, but that couldn't be a good thing, for perhaps he did this with all his victims? Now known to him as Eve, she is still awaiting for the moment his small smirk fades into a scowl, and he takes this advantage of their closeness to plunge whatever weapon he secretly possesses, into her guts and to twist it in further for his own sick pleasure, but a blade never comes.

She nods to his previous question, "Yes."

Days felt like nights in White-Ivy, and nights felt like eternity – there was never a period of time spent in this manor, in which the time ticked by fast... especially when she was around Kylo Ren. 

Kylo Ren's smile widened beneath all that thickness of blood, to which he shows the crimson upon his teeth, "They woke you up _for_ me?" He chimes, a sarcastic, and playful tone in his voice.

She rolls her eyes and tries to fight the corners of her lips which tug slightly upwards. "Yes," She repeats herself.

In the cold space of the small room, her breath moves in tendrils of grey mist, to which he sucks in to fill his lungs, and exhales back out slowly, as if the fog was her soul and he was leeching on it, as if it was the cigarette in which he is craving so tenaciously.

His warm breath releases a cloud of fog into the cold air, too – but she didn't breath it in, but rather held her lungs and airways tightly closed, for she was scared that what he may be breathing out, is the cause in which makes her so addicted to him. Perhaps, he breathed insanity, and it was a virus in which her weak immune system, only _wanted_ to catch. 

"Hm," He almost purred, eyes flicking all upon her face as she inspects the mess of his own, "Did you pray to the Lord that _owns_ you?"

She nearly drops her torch, "I'm sorry?"

His voice sounds gravelling, "Did you pray upon being awoken?"

Eve still felt uneasy around Kylo Ren, that he could _also_ see in the way her fingers shook. There was still something in her that was scared of him, maybe it was her faith – but at the same time, there was a tremor in those same bones of her, which were comforted, _guiltily,_ by his presence. The fact that she was somehow, kneeling with solace before such a murderous, psychopath of a man, made her feel a little bit on edge... but the thrill of it all, was unlike anything she had ever endured before. 

"No," She shook her head and pursed her lips before continuing, "I'll pray in the sanctuary when the sun rises, but until then, I am here to have a look at your face. I heard that the stitches had re-opened?"

Kylo scoffed, "You mean that _bastard,_ Guard Roberts, who punched me in the face and split it apart again?" He rolled his eyes and said, just as he dropped the packet from his hands and let it fall to the floor between his legs, "Yeah, they might have re-opened, but for what? A cheap brand of smokes and no lighter? It wasn't even worth the hassle... "

She had already figured out that his stitches actually hadn't been properly re-opened, but there was certain areas of it which had been presumably, tugged upon, allowing blood to slink through and smear across his marble, attractive face – but that didn't mean that she didn't prolong the time in-front of him, pretending to place her focus on his wound, instead of the words he spoke, which she was truely moving her inner pivot towards.

"Oh," Eve's lips parted softly, her eyes moving to meet his own again, "T-Then, do you mind if you glance to the side, so I take a closer look at the cut?"

Kylo Ren only stared, and that was the second in which she thought he was about to shift into the true monster in which he was, and kill her on the spot. Patient 727 watched Eve with pure evil in his brown eyes, words ceased and movements, frozen completely as a timid Sister, briefly met his expressionless, yet immensely musing gaze. She quickly looked down, hands fidgeting around the torch, ready to click it off and bid him a goodnight before he turned violent... but then, he complied and turned his face to the side.

The silence lay on her skin like a poison. It seeped into her blood and paralysed her terrified ponders. Eve's pupils became dilated and there was a tremor in her hands again, but this time there was no masking the flickering of her own light. 

As she let her eyes graze along the sharpness of Kylo Ren's jaw, she was a tsunami of emotions that never mixed but clashed against each-other, fighting to be at the forefront of her wandering mind. She was nothing but a vein full of intense haunting, hollow-heartedness and affinity – the last emotion attached to Kylo Ren like a coiled up string.

His dark brown eyes are slightly melancholic as he stares out of the barricaded window, his hair is ruffled in a messy way as if he only just woke up too, but she knew that must be because of the obvious fight between him and the guards, which was the result of him stealing the packet of cigarettes from Guard Roberts – who was still standing in the hall outside the cell, waiting to hear anything that sounded like a commotion... but he heard nothing.

She quickly looked away, to rummage through the first aid kit, retrieving the gauze pad, which she then tenderly rubbed along the blood of his scar.

"You know –" Kylo Ren suddenly broke the silence again, this time his voice barely anything above a whisper, "You don't _need_ to belong to your Lord."

He turned his face back to her again, letting her hold the gauze against his cheek. 

"No?" She tilted her head and rolled her eyes, a small smile playing upon her lips as she felt as if she was suddenly sitting back in the dining hall, playing that damned game of chess with him, "And who are you suggesting that I belong to... _the Devil?"_

His lips rose somewhat gently, "I guess you could say that." 

Their eyes met again, and Eve felt a mixture of emotions rummaged through her chest and clang against every bone of her ribcage. She could see the hidden meaning in his eyes, and she didn't quite like that she understood it so clearly.

"I definitely won't belong to you, Kylo," She shook her head and laughed nervously, finally feeling a little weakling of fear, build in her heart again. 

The young Sister looked away, and avoided his lust-filled gaze, but she wouldn't know what that looked like, even if it was right in front of her – as it clearly is now. He made her incredibly nervous, more strung than the time she had to read a verse from the bible in front of her sanctuary. 

"Not yet, my sweet, Eve," Kylo muttered, but she heard him, all too well.

Her brain felt like mush and the rest of her body ached more than she had ever thought possible. It felt like someone had tied her into an electric chair and this was what was left of her brain afterwards. Patient 727's words left her utterly breathless, but she knew that her silence may leave an answer for him to fabricate... as would the Lord.

"I don't want to... unsettle you," She suddenly commented, her eyes dropping and forming a glassy layer above the colour, for she felt as if she was defying her Lord, with every moment spent with the devilish, Kylo Ren. She held onto her breath for a short second, only to breathe back out and continue with a sigh, "But I don't want to be _owned_ by you, especially after hearing the things you did to girls like me."

Kylo Ren still stared at her, listening intently, but not enough to care what her opinions truely were. "Girls like you?" He retorted with a sly gruff, "Those... women... they weren't anything like you."

Eve fought the temptation to laugh out loud. _Anything like her?_ That's because her heart is still beating and she isn't currently chopped up into little pieces, and buried six feet underground... but her denomination for her morality might as well be.

She licks her lips, just the same as she had remembered he had done so, many times in the dining hall, "And why not?" She asked him, purely to bemuse the insane patient.

Suddenly, and all at once, she flinched when his big hand moved from the parting of his thick thighs and to her chin. Blood smeared across her skin, and his touch was incredibly cold to the heat of her face, which he gripped onto both, carelessly and delicately, to lift her eyes back to his. 

Eve makes no effort to move – partially because she didn't want him to hurt her, and also because she didn't want his cold touch to leave her warmth. Her eyes are wide with bewilderment, and her heart seems to tightly squeeze its way up her chest and into her throat. 

His brown eyes flicked all across her face, to which she only closed her own and swallowed. 

Kylo's hand still holds onto her chin, his thumbs brushing more scarlet across the skin of her beauty,"Because you're pure." He whispers, and her eyes open only then to meet the darkness of his gaze, "You don't deserve the punishment served by the... _cultivated disobeyers."_

Her eyebrows furrowed, but still, she made no movement in his grip, "I– I don't understand..."

A collision of shock and unwanted need, spread a tincture among the apprehension in her chest and her mind clouded with the simple, hazy gaze upon him. There's an unreadable look in his eyes and his lips almost quiver just as much as her's did before him as finally, his hand moves from her chin – only to curl around her cheek.

"Everyone is so absorbed on the proposition of enlightenment, or some sort of twisted, religious nirvana. That God is good and faith is righteous..." Kylo Ren muttered as they knelt and sat on the wet floors of his cell, where he will rot forever in, "But with the Devil's touch, I was easily swayed into real erudition. I was shown a reality in which I can chose to disobey the light, and follow the darkness."

He says his words smoothly, the baritone of his voice reverberating through the Sister's chest as she sucked in a sharp breath upon them. Eve could feel the heat growing in her cheeks, and by now they must be beyond an attractive rosiness – but instead, the scarlet must be marking her out and basically urging him to sneer at the way they somewhat matched.

She felt as if all her faith's insecurities were writ large across her face and there was nowhere to hide, not even behind the black of her veil, or the pressure of the jabbing syringe, which still sits down her sleeve.

In the real world, the _true_ evil walked the streets, masking themselves as innocent bystanders – the pastors always used to tell her that Satan had sent down a few of his worshippers, in hopes that some of them will corrupt the Lord's children – maybe that was what happened to Kylo?

The worst evildoers concealed themselves amongst the population, all bravado and impressive fake-ness, these people knowing just how to work the system from their own positions. The true criminals knew what to do, what to say, and how to act, how to sway the fickle and naive multitudes... and as he continued to speak, that is all she presumes him to be doing to her.

"And in the dark... I found that there were people all around me, who disobeyed the light too, and almost fed off the murk. But soon enough, they were no longer defying anyone, for they were now listening too intently to the Devil, who had lured them in from the start." He said, eyes now watching the way he paints her skin red.

Eve's surroundings begin to start spinning and she can't control her own thoughts as she takes a peek at those rosy lips of his once more, and whispers her next words, "So, you chose not to listen to both the Lord and the Devil?"

He nods, and she can hear the way he swallows before he speaks again, "Yes, exactly." He nods, "Because neither of _them_ are truely righteous and truthful, nor do they have the answers to how _us_ mortals should be summoned and controlled. I think that, only _we_ should be able to control ourselves." 

His eyes flicked to the hemming of her veil. If only she knew that his eyes had captured the first discovery of the colour of her hair, for a strand had just managed to escape the black, and stick to the blood he brushed it with. Kylo Ren smiled sheepishly, but soon brought his gaze back to her lips, when she asked, 

"And in saying that... you mean to tell me that it was your choice completely, _insanity or stable-minded,_ to kill those young girls?"

He somewhat hissed through his teeth, and shook his head, almost dismissing Eve, but still graciously answering her questions – for she was allowing him to use her heat to warm the ice of his hands, "I didn't _just_ destroy women, that's just what the paper's wanted everyone to think, to make me seem sicker and more twisted." Kylo said, "No, I killed them _all._ There was no preference, nor fairness to my fights, for I was doing what your puny God should have, and weeded out the most deranged of us all."

She flinches in the grip of his hand again, but all at once, his other moves and holds onto the back of her neck, which is covered by her veil, never-less – but she still feels the freezing touch.

Eve's trapped in the snake's coiling, but when he tries to soothe her with his brushing thumb and sincere phrases of poetic reveries, she can't help but glance back to the apple-red colour of his lips, which were still covered in blood – that same way in which they were, that day he kissed her. 

"Don't be afraid," He mumbled, "Like I said, you're not like _them._ You're truely pure, clean and... virginal, in all of life's aspects. You're almost the light itself, and my darkness is only drawn to it like an ignorant moth to a flame."

She held onto her breath again, for all too quickly, they were both leaning into each-other. Eyes hooded, lips tingling, hearts beating softly. Patient 727's nose brushed her own, and she could feel him slowly tugging onto her veil, wanting to pull it back and expose the rest of her locks in the darkness of his uninviting cell.

A yearning fills his heart, telling him to whisper back the words that are etched upon it, "... And I think that you see it too."

She sucks in a sharp breath, but doesn't fight his theorem.

A small sigh is bellowed onto her face, which is then followed by a soft hum that melts to a melody that her own heart now sings to. The cold touch would destroy the warm angel in his hands, and suddenly, that was the only thing in which he feared. 

Though, regardless – Kylo Ren to his Eve, was mysterious. His expression lacked any kind of giveaway, and to the sheer darkness of the shade that painted his irises, the patient wore a shroud of something unknown to the young Sister, who seems to be braving through the demolishing of her morality, for her faith has become strung on the touch of the Devil.

It was just as scary as it was intriguing, and perhaps it was what had her still leaning in and then, softly pressing her lips to the metallic taste of his own, in the space of his cell at an ungodly hour of the night. An oddly welcomed fear settled itself in the pit of her stomach again... but maybe, all along, it was _pure_ adrenaline. 

Kylo Ren quickened the kiss in a mere second, and swallowed the soft gasp from Eve's lips before even an inch of the cobblestone walls around them could allow it to sink into the mould, and move onwards throughout the dead-silent halls.

The young Sister could barely form a coherent thought, not knowing how to move – but Kylo took the lead with such ease, guiding her lips with her own in a way that made her wonder, somewhere at the back of her mind, just how many times he had done this, whereas, she had never, _willingly,_ before.

His lips burned more than her own blood ever could. A good kind of burning. A sensation which she thinks that she may always have to welcome, for Eve becomes a whimpering mess at the feel of his silky lips and tongue, swirling in the virtue of her mouth.

Eve was nervous, scared, but overall, she was enraptured with a feverish whirl of emotions in which she could not yet decipher, but she just knew she _wanted_ it. 

Though, the Lord seems to be _always_ watching, for the very moment she feels the prick of the syringe in her wrist again, a loud knock is rhythmically banged onto the other-side of the metal door to the cell – and just when it begins to open, is when the panic elopes her.

_Nobody else can see this, let alone Father Hux!_

The Sister tries to push Kylo Ren away, but he doesn't care about being caught, and doesn't want this moment to end any sooner than it should – he only holds onto her tighter, pushing her face closer to his own.

She doesn't even realise what she is doing, but when Kylo won't let her go, she does the only thing that comes to her wiring mind. 

Her fingers snap to her wrist, to shakily pull out the syringe quickly, and just as she feels the sharp end scratch along her skin, is when her eyes flick open in the kiss.

Eve watches her own hand grip around the exposed syringe, and she swipes it through the air in one sudden motion...

_Only to then, plunge it into Kylo Ren's neck._


	5. FOUR

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> hey - please leave comments on what you think!?

_Forgive me Father, for I have sinned._

Those words ring around her mind like a cracking and splintering halo. She can still taste his blood upon her lips, but by the time Hux and Roberts have leaped into the room, she runs her tongue over the gloss of scarlet, and lets it sink on her taste buds with a capricious temptation, to desperately hide the remnants of her sins.

She watches the way Kylo Ren falls back, his lips covered in as much blood as the rest of his face and hands, but his eyes are a bursting of dark colours which is a clashing to the red – as the brown orbs widen at her, only to then droop heavily and roll to the back of his head.

The syringe is stuck perfectly in his neck, the sharpness of the silver, embedded into a large, pulsing vein which loses the battle to the attack of sedatives, which charge into the bloodstream, and kill off the light to his sombre consciousness.

Her lips are tingling with a sensation of dilettante, but the engagement of their once moving lips, was above serious – how she had allowed him to sway her into his evil grip, _again,_ was unfathomable, but so was the spring of desire, _an emotion in which she had never truely felt before_ , that started to coil in her guts and make a permanent home in her body.

 _Oh, Lord._ Please save her – she is falling helpless to Kylo Ren's promiscuous tales and fastidious prompts and commands. He's a destructive hedonist, fuelled on the passion of darkness and the desideratum inside his uncaged lust, which needs to devour of her morality... and she's only placing her hands first, between his sharp teeth.

Patient 727 slumps to the floor, just the same as a dead body would fall out of a thrown coffin – limp and slack. His eyes are no longer ghostly haunting her conscience, but her strength which initially kept her cautious around him, as been buried in that same, empty hole where the casket was meant to reside.

Just as Father Hux practically stumbles into the room, showing more perfunctory dishevelment than she had ever witnessed him be before, her heart drops to the wet and soggy floors, where Kylo lays – for the very moment the three stand above him, and his mind finally drifts into a deep sleep, he whispers her new, misnomer name.

_"Eve..."_

She gasps low below her breath and her eyes widen down at him, as she stands to her feet. Tenderly, Father Hux claps his dainty and pale hand onto her shoulder, keeping his touch upon her for a little _too_ long.

"Marvellous job, Sister." He praises the young one, clearly oblivious to the unconscious patient's calling to his holy and devoted, Sister.

The dark and grotesque cell is still spinning around her and wavering her senses into a massive whirl, which was like the sudden blur of a twisting kaleidoscope. Her mind is still clicking backwards like a broken clock, going over the rushed memories of how Kylo Ren had just kissed her so demandingly, only seconds earlier. She felt an emense amount of guilt as she stares flatly at the syringe in the pale inmate's neck, but she had to count her blessings and thank her Lord, that He was still looking out for her, and keeping prying eyes away, _for now._

As Father Hux's hand finally slithers off her shoulder, her eyes tightly clutch closed, just as she listens to the muffle of his applauds for her sick and demented doings. She had kissed Kylo Ren again, _willingly_ – but the Priest, nor dimwitted Guard had seen that, they only saw the syringe in his veins and his eyes rolled to the back of his scrambled head.

Oblivion was fogged in the baptismal of the sunken night, which rain had now seemed to elope the darkness of the sky, and patter upon the manor – sinking through the bricked roof, and then decaying upon the walls of every sickening and perilous cell in the deepest corridors of the west-wing.

The young Sister could feel a migraine tapping on her temples, and plaguing her sensibilities. The tribulations of her slipping convictions and credences, were all muddling her with an infestation of dirty impurities and sore agony, which overlay her warm flesh, heart, inner voices and even her belief in the glory of her Lord, just the same as Kylo Ren had smeared the blood upon her cheeks and painted her lips with that same, metallic crimson.

She could feel all the chains around her inner demons, coming undone – and the very traitor who had the key to their freedom, was the extremely vulnerable man at her feet.

Only when her peripherals caught sight of more people entering the claustrophobic cell, and Father Hux putting his sly hands back upon her, to move her slightly out of the way – did the Sister notice the entrance of two guards, who carried in a stretcher, of two poles and a thin, stained sheet tied to each side.

The cell door, which was an iron slat of drawing rust, _obviously because of the lack of warmth and dryness in the room,_ was pulled all the way open – Darlot's small hand holding it to the side, and watching with fear in her eyes, as the monster within the dark cage, was finally put to sleep. 

Guard Roberts groaned a grunt, and muffled a yawn as his younger peers, began to lift Kylo Ren onto the stretcher, with much hassle. Her eyelids were fluttering at the scene with bewilderment, and the blood smeared on her cheeks were beginning to sting as Hux briefly casted his icy eyes upon them.

The evil desire to make sure that Kylo Ren was going to be okay, when they pulled him out of the room, was opting to corrupt her denomination and religious suave, and that fear _for_ him, was eating at her insides with its bleak darkness, shadowing her entire, holy identity.

With shaking fingers, she quickly rubbed the blood off her cheeks, but some remnants remained, as the rest was now staining her nails like an unacceptable polish, which normal girl's would wear. The blurriness vanished into the thick air, as Kylo Ren was lugged into the hallway, and she followed both Guard Roberts and Father Hux, who only followed the stretcher, too.

"Where are you taking him?" She suddenly asked, her voice sounding a bit strange, but that didn't matter, for it seemed that both men were ignoring her, "... His stitches haven't reopened. The blood has just managed to sink through the healing gaps. I think he will be okay... no infections, or anything." She tried, hoping that they would listen and take him back into his room, perhaps even give him a blanket to rest throughout the cold night with.

"Great – Great." Father Hux almost waved her off, as they all now stood in the eerie hallway, "Guard Roberts?" He turned his attention to the older man, completely leaving the young Sister standing in the shadows of his blatant disregard.

Guard Roberts has a menacing smirk punched into the wrinkles of his face, his tongue even toying with the corner of his mouth. Father Hux narrows his blue eyes, and interlocks his fingers together in-front of himself, his clasped palms carrying the weight of his pictorial cross.

"Please make sure that the doctors drug him up a little more this time," The Priest said, tilting his head to the limp Kylo Ren, who's arm fell off the side of the stretcher, and made Darlot almost leap back with a squeak. Hux rolls his eyes, "He will wake soon, but it's safe to ensure that he won't be able to put up a fight... _this time."_

The ambitious Father was pacing around the stretcher now, and even the corners of his thin, pink lips were also twitching upwards, as he used his pointed elbow to nudge the patient's slack arm, checking the lethally morbid sight of a dangerous man, who had been somewhat contained.

Hushed in silence corridors of the old, horror inducing penitentiary, the young Sister, now secretly named, Eve – had an abundance of questions, whirring in the sandstorm of her mind.

She took a slight step forward, trying to remain calm to keep sycophant about her secret tryst with the patient, only minutes ago, and to not seem as if she was also growing a liking for the patient, as Roberts had presumed about Kylo, earlier.

"You're going to drug him again?" She quickly uttered, standing right in front of Hux, so he had no reason to ignore her, "Why?"

All at once, she saw the piercing, bone-chilling, glare, that the Priest, dared to dart upon the young and utterly, ignorant girl beneath him. Only when her hand snapped to the rosary around her neck, and clutched onto the beads with shock, did Hux twist his face back into a collected demeanour – a promising smile and supposed, kind eyes.

The change calmed her a little – but if only she knew that deep down, the Priest had malicious intentions of agonising the Sister, even if it was in secret, or only done by the shrouded way his eyes would often undress her – his wildest, most unholiest fathoms, pulling away her veil, running his claws through her hair and digging into the flesh of her neck.

"Don't worry, Sister. You can go back to your quarters now, go along with Darlot." He smiled, those fathoms spinning in his _cruel_ mind even now, "I am certain that the Lord appreciates your assistance, as much as I do."

When he finished his words with that same damned, mocking smile, silence escalated to her sunken heart and she even noticed the way Darlot had winced – there was something going on, something in which she wasn't told.

And at that mere recognition, she figured it all out in one brittle heartbeat. There was a solemn grey beneath her eyes, and it stung from Hux pulling her out of her dreams, and throwing her into this nightmare. She shook her head in a solemn disagreement, pursing her lips in a pensively frustrated manner.

Father Hux hadn't even listened to her observations of Kylo Ren's wounds, despite the fact that he had sent her into his cell, purely for that reason only – with a syringe beneath her wrist, that he knew that she would use... but not for the reasons in which she actually did.

 _Eve's_ resilience in her holy faith was now as silent as the hallway, and everything was clearly obvious for her, as Hux's demeanour was always slightly suspicious on this fateful and untenable night.

"Wait –" She hushed, just as Father Hux began to turn and follow the now moving guards, who were beginning to grow frustrated with the conversations, and just wanted to carry the dangerous patient away before he woke up.

Eve narrows her eyes to the Priest and tilts her head to the side, "You didn't _really_ want me to tend to his stitches... did you?" She asked.

The guards gave her sly glares from behind Hux, trying to formulate scenarios of the impending words, lingering on the Priest's sly tongue – but he leaves the air smothered by the eerie quiet, where without the constant screams from further down the western ward, everyone's ears are left ringing.

A lump forms in the Sister's tight throat, "You just needed him unconscious... why?" 

The very moment in which she had taken her first step into White-Ivy, she had seemed to waltz right into the Devil's sickest chamber. Kylo Ren had mentioned briefly to her that both the Lord and the Devil, have their fair share of followers and servants, _but they are all the same._

This place didn't feel like a sacred sanctuary for enlightenment of the wicked, it felt like a place where only evil was lingering in the hidden places that the Lord's eye couldn't see. Perhaps, Kylo Ren wasn't all that crazy, and in-fact, everyone was truely touched by the Devil – for she was starting to fear the silence and the menacing hints of detestation in the azure waves of Father Hux's glare.

He stands stiffly in his starched and pressed uniform, "Because insanity never sleeps, young one," The ginger deadpanned, "And Patient 727 refuses to be enlightened, nor let his wickedness rest, so we are going to try and help him."

Sudden antagonism and conflict gnaws at her aching bones, her head felt heavy, and her body was wrung unusually cold. The Sister didn't know exactly how he was planning on helping Kylo Ren, but there was something in her heart, that knew it couldn't be just by whispering sweet nothings into the psychopath's ear.

Antipathy was her greatest opponent – Eve hated every fibre of her being, for caring somewhat about Patient 727, especially after all the brutal things in which he had done, but surely her God wouldn't bestow more hatred and retributions in this already darkened world?

All too well, Father Hux could identify the religious seditiousness in the young Sister's hidden thoughts. There was an imminent, yet unpredictable clash that awaited between her and him, if she doesn't play his own cards right, and refuses the Devil's guilt which forms in her chest. He can somewhat tell already, that she was caring for the sickened patient, but hopefully she will turn away from the darkness and call upon the Priest, to go ahead with his exorcisms.

But she doesn't refuse, nor accept – so Father Hux takes it upon himself to fill the tense silence once again, somewhat even forgetting about the bundle of people around him, and the alluring, but weak, Sister before him.

"The Lord and I, are going to help him... And so are you." He suddenly added, emanating a despairing shock from the Sister, who only took the revelation of his mere words, the same as one would wince at the sound of nails being scraped down a chalkboard.

Her heart began to beat thunderously against the cage around it, as she watched Hux's pale-pinkish, satin lips crinkle in a pensive, crafty purse, "Congratulations, Sister. You're replacing Darlot, and will become Patient 727's new... _caretaker."_

And then he turned, leaving both _Eve_ and Darlot, standing beneath the flickering light of the hall, while he and the guards turned and stalked away – taking their _captured_ Devil, with them...

 _It was a sunny, vibrant day in the crisp air of freedom –_ the sun was beating down upon him, dispersing its saturating sun rays upon the marble of his skin and bathing him in the natural sunlight, which he had missed since the very moment they had locked him in the dark cage of labelled, criminal insanity.

Kylo Ren could see the light even through his closed eyes, which when they fluttered heavily open, the rays almost left him blind, as the ring above burnt into his untrained eyes. The sky through the groggy blur of his adjusting vision, seemed cloudless and the light didn't have any intentions of being swarmed by the translucent clouds, blocking its view – but then suddenly, a shadow of a man hovered above him. 

Immediately, the mirage that his own sick mind had dwelt into his suddenly conscious train of thought, twisted from the warmth of the sun, into a nightmare-inducing chill, one which may resemble the after-effect of staring directly at the face in the moon for too long. The sheer bliss of freedom shimmered, collapsing into a pensive darkness in his burnt vision – Kylo Ren's glossy, brown eyes, widened in the midst of all the blood around it, and as the darkened figure loomed above him, he spent so much time trying to see through the haloed light that hung around their head, that he didn't notice their hand raise to his face, and shove a gag down his throat and between his scarlet tinctured teeth.

Kylo tried to spit it back out, but it was lodged too far behind his teeth and he only choked on the muffling of material, the same way his victim's would when he was tired of listening to them plead. He fought against himself, limbs trying to kick, punch and fly at the figure, but when he felt them being pushed back down, as if he was fighting against an invisible wall, he turned his head with furrowed brows to see the belting of leather, strapping him tightly down to the bed he laid in.

If he wasn't considered a sociopath, he would have feared what he presumed was coming – but in all honesty, even Kylo Ren knew that whatever pain or death was to come, he deserved it all.

The figure moved away, and only then, did he notice that the illumination above was never the sun, but a surgery lamp – a bright, hot, and white, surgery lamp.

Above the pensive beat of his heart, which was being struck with nothing but adrenaline, the patient heard multiple footsteps hover around his bed, but due to the migraine inducing light, and the position that he was shackled in, he couldn't see just who was tormenting him.

His raven hair stuck to the mixture of sweat and blood upon his face, and all he could smell was the overbearing scent of bleach and sterile silver tools – he only ignored the way he could still taste Eve's lips.

As multiple doctors sink their fingers into rubber gloves, and prepare their tools, the exorcism only began when the head of the sanctuary, recited in a bellowing of prayers out loud. Father Hux stood to the side, and watched Kylo Ren writhe on the surgery bed, the same way a convulsing rabbit would in a trap.

The Priest held his bible in his hands, with the chain of his cross tucked into the binding, and swinging below. His praises tried to fizzle Satan's power out of the room, for it was his turn to embody the Lord and be a saviour.

Kylo Ren screamed a melody of sinister curses behind his gag, but never did he plead, nor cry. With tense muscles, he still shook and bounced in the fight against Hux's loud prayers and the trusses around his ankles, wrists and even, _throat._

_Father Hux smiled._

If only Kylo's precious _Eve_ had kept her pretty mouth shut, for Father Hux took her apprehensions as a clear flag for her wavering grace that was motioning inwards the dangerous patient that was shackled to the bed in the middle of the laboratory – for that very disregard of her faith, was what lead Hux to order the doctors, not to dose Kylo Ren with more drugs to keep him sedated in the process of his electroconvulsive therapy.

It was a new form of treatment, one which was discovered, exactly seventy-seven days before the outbreak of the Second World War, a few years back. Hux had read about it in the German-language neurological and psychiatric journal called, _Zentralblatt,_ which announced, _'a new, revolutionary method in the shock therapy of schizophrenia coming from Rome.'_

And despite the fact that Kylo Ren wasn't clinically diagnosed with schizophrenia, Father Hux knows that there are voices in Patient 727's head which are nothing but the Devil's hush, and he was prepared to do anything in his power to quiet that _bastard_ down.

The bible snapped shut with a loud thud, and then, Hux turned to the head doctor and nodded, only once – that was the very cue that all the medics in the surgery room were awaiting, and the moment that it happened, it didn't take long for the slick of water to swipe along Kylo Ren's temples, and then for someone to forcibly place the paddled handles to the sides of his deranged mind.

The very second that Kylo Ren caught sight of Father Hux's piercing gaze and sinister smirk, is when the loud click of the monitor was turned on. Patient 727 could almost feel the vibrating pulse of the electricity soar through the wires connected to the pads upon his temples, before it even met his skin – and when it finally did, he bit through the material in his mouth, cut open his bottom lip and screamed a hell-cry unlike no other.

Kylo had never been electrocuted before, but this is exactly how he had imagined it to feel like. It was torture in the finest degree. Brutal, painful, agonising spurts of high voltage were plastering through his melting skin, and sending his mind into a fit of fireworks.

There were no thoughts in his mind – all there was, was the pain. His throat was being torn apart, and so was his brain. Darkness was eloping the corners of his vision in the midst of all the pain, pushing aside the light above that his pupils dilated at.

Patient 727 could feel the pulling of unconsciousness for the second time this night, but just as the mortifying burn was becoming numb, the monitor was clicked off, tugging him back into reality again.

Now, all he could smell was his scorched flesh, and all he could taste through all that blood, was still _her._

Gasping for air through the gag, Kylo could even feel the rise of his stomach's acid, soar up his throat and he figured that if he wasn't going to die by electrocution, he would surely choke on his own vomit and then perish in the burning flames of Hell, forevermore.

His body was still convulsing, but that was the strikes of electricity still flowing through his veins. Father Hux chuckled at the sight, finding the sickest of pleasures in the scene, so-much-so that he should be strung up in the bed too.

Kylo's eyes were hooded, but he still turned and stared fiercely at the ginger Devil, who wore the sheepskin of a servant of the Lord. There was nothing but a swirl of malice and poison, dancing in the light of the Priest's eyes – Kylo only dug his blunt fingernails into the sheet beneath him, as he watched Hux nod once more.

The electrifying wave thrashed like a tsunami upon his soul once again, but this time, the power must have intensified, or Kylo must have weakened, for it wasn't long before his scrambled mind was taken by the simple touch of oblivion.

And just before his vision finally wavered into a pensive darkness... he saw the Garden of Eden, and his sweet, little Eve was standing right in the middle of the greenery – a red apple in one hand, and a snake coiling around the other.


	6. FIVE

The glowing departure of the sun was barely peaking above the horizon with its ostentatious farewelling, for it had finished another shift in the sky and was awaiting the drawing moments, in which the toenail-shaped moon will take its solemnised place. 

Throughout the day, it had managed to peak through the pockets of rain-filled clouds, inflicting its strikes of dazzling and inviting rays to the darkened shadows of White-Ivy Manor. 

Slowly, the fatigue was weighing down the shoulders of the young Sister, as the soft, spitting rain trickled along the windows that lined the hall which seemed as if it was the rickety bridge between Heaven and Hell – as the east meets west, and the corridor she currently saunters down, leads her right to the darkest corners of White-Ivy, where the insanity truely lingers in the tucked away and locked cages, that hide even in the shadows of daylight. 

As Eve walks into the mouth of the most dangerous wing with a metal tray in her hands, which was sparsely filled with a mediocre, sloppy excuse for a refreshing meal – she feels as if the murals cracked into the colours of the windows and upon the hung portraits, are glaring down at her with resentment. 

Beneath her drapes of black, her shoes click along the floors and she forces herself to listen to that sound, instead of the screams and crude sayings that come from the passing cages. These certain prison stalls were still far enough away from where the penitentiary kept the worst of the rotten litter, so those patients that hollered at her, were the ones that were rewarded with the advantage of having a slotted window in the metal doors of their cells – which the guards had all seemed to leave open tonight, perhaps finding a sickened pleasure out of the knowing that tonight was going to be exceptionally cold, and the opened squares would only let in the breeze of the wide corridors. 

The recollection of last night's events, _or more likely,_ this morning's – have run rampant, over and over in her mind throughout the day. Upon being ordered back to bed, she didn't get much sleep, but rather laid in bed, staring at the cracks in the ceiling and noticing the coiled way the slithers of broken plaster, resembled the gut-wrenching wound that was deeply lacerated into Kylo Ren's porcelain face. 

A voice had echoed around her, whenever the silence finally mellowed – but no longer was the voice of Patient 727 ringing in her mind like a dove flying loops around her head, it was in-fact the revelation that the sly Priest had resided to her, before he took Kylo Ren away.

She was now bestowed the task of enlightening Kylo Ren, or more so, being his dutiful adherent – and how exactly she was expected to do that, when inside she is only fumbling on her own grip of faith, is completely enigmatic.

As soon as the sun rose, she prayed beneath the rays that crept through her small window, and then moved to the sanctuary, to kneel before the cross. The young Sister pleaded for insight and a whisper of wisdom, both for her questions regarding, how to fix Kylo Ren, and also how to mend herself in the meantime.

Then moving onwards, she went about her duties for the day, wondering just where Patient 727 was during lunch, and where they had taken him last night – it wasn't until after noon, that Darlot had pulled her aside and informed her on anything in which she should know, then leaving shortly after telling her that she would also need to carry the patient his dinner tonight, where he would eat it in his cell.

With that information, her impatience was set ablaze and her sinister devotions, ignited adrenaline, pumping an un-welcomed emotion into her warm veins, and the next passing hours felt hollow and incredibly slow, with the addition of childlike jitteriness by trying to fathom just what she was supposed to do, when she faces the monster again. 

Her hands were now clean, but sometimes she felt as if they were still sticky with his blood, and regrettably, whenever she licks her own lips, she wishes that she could still taste the sweet crimson. 

_Oh –_ how Eve's belief was slowly diminishing into the same smothering shadows, in which now follow her all around, wherever she goes. Her optimism in her faith was always brittle, but with the intrusion of Kylo, it was snapping the same as her rosary had, the very moment their eyes met for the first time.

It was odd, when the time for his dinner finally came – and all of the lunatics, who once outnumbered the workers, were slammed back into their chambers and blessed with a goodnight – there was an otherworldly, chaotic uproar of noise, the screams already beginning to howl to the moon above. But just like last night, the moment she steps into the atrium of the highest of the demented, there was nothing to be heard other than the tedious beat of her heart, and the items on her tray rattling. 

The amalgamation of urine, fading bleach, and sweat, reeks through the hall, and navigated their air waves to the softness of the bread-slice upon the silver tray, which sat soggy beside a bowl of smelly stew.

Eve's eyes closely watch the stew of brown, oily water, slop around the bowl, and her mind fades into a pensive dullness as her surroundings warp into a foggy illusion – because she is totally apprehensive of what is to come, the moment the two guards open the metal door for her, and leave her in the cell behind it with indifference fuelling their departure, when they stalk back to the entrance in which they had stopped her at... for that's where two chairs sat, and they had left their cigarette packets there, almost to take their place and guard it. 

The door opens with a loud grind of the metal scraping the floor. Its rectangular slate is washed black and inside is completely invisible to her untrained, holy eye. A guard scoffs behind the Sister, and almost nudges her inside, telling her to scream if she needs them, before slamming the hatch to the cage, closed. 

The slamming echoes and all the colour seems to drain from her face, almost leaving her ghostly pale. Gripping tightly onto the tray of silverware, she suddenly feels as if this very room was a twilight zone, and she was sent back to the dark hours of last night – where she glanced around the small, dark space, for the predator that lived inside.

There's a nervous jitter in her bones – and she loathes every cell in her veins, which finds comfort in this particular darkness. Night often worried the Sister, for it was the time in which, perhaps her Lord, couldn't see the sins of mortality, as clearly as He could in the light. And during her time in the covent, her very own, tenacious imagination supplied many beasts with fantastical jaws to lurk beyond the range of her short vision. But now, she seems embrace it, even if her very own fears threaten to swallow her up whole – for the monster she now faces, hadn't seemed to dig his daggers into her, as of yet.

But – her own mind must have spoken too soon, or in-fact the Lord could truely see clearly in the shadows, and this was finally her punishing summons, for just as a cloud moves away from the moon that peaked through the tiny, barred window of the cell... Kylo Ren moved in on her, and in one quick swipe, thrashed the tray in her hands to the ground and pinned her against the wall. 

Even on the most moonlit of nights, the blessing of Kylo's attraction, blended into the murk, leaving only his glowing eyes to be the pools of illumination, as he scowled down at her, with his unshackled hands, twining violently around her wrists that he tries to bury into the stone behind the Sister.

Deservingly, once again dread and ferocious trepidation, called upon her, exploded in the churn of her stomach, and ricocheted fright into her bloodstream. The Devil seemed to speak to her in a cackling voice. He told her legs to go weak, her stomach to lurch and her heart to ache – this is what she deserves, for both sedating the patient, and kissing him kindly too.

Those disregarding eyes he possessed were as sharp as the end to the syringe in which the Sister had plunged into his neck. The vexation upon his seething face was obvious, and if it weren't for the ferocity of narrowed, raging eyes and the lace of his crimson skin – Eve would feel an odd pang of regret for her actions.

Eve's breaths come in sharp gasps and she feels like she will surely pass out, because her weak heart is hammering inside her caged chest like it belongs to a rabbit running for its worthless life. Kylo Ren doesn't speak but his nostrils are flared as if he is having an argument in his wired mind. Stranded tears cleansed her cheeks, not caring for the voice inside her head which screamed for them to stop. Few droplets fell from her trembling chin, forgetting their way as the soot ground was swept from beneath her feet, as the patient held her so tightly against the wall with a revengeful grip, that her toes were barely brushing the lower surface. 

And yet, he made no further movement to kill her or do any harm, just as she never even thought about screaming for her life. 

Kylo's darkened eyes are flicking upon every feature of Eve, mapping out the consternation that twists in her flesh. He doesn't even notice when his pensive grip only wrings around her wrists, but he does enjoy the way she winces in pain. He always knew that she was so breakable, frail and debilitated, like a vintage china doll. But his Eve was more than a mere, porcelain decoration, she's a statue of glory, but still, she is too fragile to be handled so roughly. 

Her wide eyes are begging him to let go, but her words never plead as his blunt, bloodied nails dig into her skin and only draw more scarlet. 

She dragged her eyes upon him, taking in his muscles that matched his broad shoulders and his lean shape, his clean shaven square jaw, messy and dirty, black locks of hair and then... his rising, mischievous smirk.

His beauty was something strange to see compared with the eerie setting, but his overbearing degeneracy, is what reminds her that he was not created with a holy touch, but rather, a sinister punch. 

Eve's cautious gaze now grazed upon his face, and only then, did she notice the new markings upon his temples, which almost made the brutal cut across his eye, look salubrious and less violent. The abrasions were broad and rough, but his eyes didn't cower with pain between them. Whatever had caused the new injuries, seemed to have melted his skin completely, for his white porcelain was a scorching, fiery red.

"Kylo –" She suddenly whispered, her heart hanging heavy in her chest, "What did they do to you?"

Patient 727's eyes grew wide. Eve wasn't whole-heartedly scared of him, she was still struggling but not to get away from him, but rather closer – to inspect the stinging, painful burns on his temples. His smirk faded, and his eyebrows furrowed – she truely was _weak,_ but perhaps in more ways than physical.

Suddenly, Kylo lets her go, pushing her roughly further into the wall, almost winding the air out of her brisk lungs, as he then uses that powerful movement as leverage to spin himself crazily around, where he then stalks further into the darkness and sits on the corner of his bed. 

"They tried to _shock_ the Devil out of me," He spat, leaning down to the ground and picking up the soggy packet of smokes, which he had stolen from Guard Roberts. 

Banging the cardboard against his palm, the paper only moulds around his hand but he does it out of old habit anyway – there's only one match at the bottom of the packet, where six rolled cigarettes are still saved from the drench of his cell. He lights the match on the cement floor, and the flame rises warmly in the cold air, only to meet the end of the stick he shoves between his soft lips, and then burn out completely. 

She gasped low to herself and wrung her wrists delicately with her own hands as she watched him sit beneath the glow of his dim window. His body shook in the icy cast of a rising night's chill, but he didn't look frail or weak as he hunched over himself in the corner of his metal bed, for all the muscles upon his toned chest were exposed – his white singlet was completely torn to shreds, some sprawled across the murky floors, and the rest wrapped around his knuckles, where blood sunk into the white, and was also punched upon the walls around him. 

Eve's chin shook and her face scrunched as she looked up to his now mellowed face – he truely must be insane. His raven hair is disheveled and sweaty, odd tufts sticking up at the side from where he'd ran his fingers through it to remove it from the damaging wounds on his face. Dirt, grime and a layer of sweat cling to his skin where his plush and inviting lips are now pursed around the limp and lit cigarette. 

She swallows as she takes a step closer, ignoring the way her legs still tremble and feel weak, "Did... Did it work?" She asked in a soft voice, as if he was one tick away from blowing up, and smashing her back into the wall, "Is the Devil's touch finally gone?"

He only snorted and shook his head, not even looking at her as he blew out a tendril of smoke, "No, once you've been scrambled, there's no way to... _unscramble_ a mind," He explained, now in a shockingly calm demeanour – a ghostly reverie of the violence he had just bestowed.

She flinches as her foot stands on the tumbled tray, his stew thrown across the room – but he merely flicks his eyes to the silver and then continues sucking on the poisoned smoke as deeply as his heaving lungs allowed him to. The smell made her nose wrinkle, but she only crept closer – just the same as one would tip-toe around someone who was in a deep sleep.

Kylo Ren's temples throbbed, ugly bruises and gashes on either side of them – he had wished that he could forget about the pain from this morning, but strangely through all the electric shock and torture, neither the insanity fled with his memories. His mind was still in-tact, much to Father Hux's disappointment – and still, it was shambled and slightly foggy, but that was what Kylo's mind always felt like.

He spent the rest of his day, staring at the now useless match, waiting for the perfect moment to strike it. But even as he curled in the corners of his room, the memories of his violent convulsions haunted every darkened blink. It was as if his mind was still strapped to that _fucking_ trauma chamber, but his body is caged in this shadowed room again.

The only time he had conquered the season of inner darkness, was when he saw the light of the opening door – which in that heartbeat, resembled the surgery light that had burnt his vision, as cruelly as the electricity scorched his bones.

Within a handful of seconds elapsing slower than a crawling corpse – a series of silent, strained questions and emotional pleas, itched in the lungs of Eve as she carefully sat on the edge of the bed too, inhaling every breath of smoke that he released.

Kylo stared deadly at his own feet with that same distant gaze that she had seen in some of the eyes of patients who had been riddled with post-traumatic stress from the war – she briefly wondered if he had been a soldier, and perhaps, it was what he had seen from the trenches, that had left him so criminally sardonic and mad?

Suddenly, he sighed and turned to her – his eyes blazing with something hotter than the burning out end of his cigarette, "Now, where were we?" He tutted sarcastically, tilting his head and scratching the back of his neck with his free, dirty hand, "You know, before you put me out like a hound?"

Her lips tingle with the memory of their second kiss. 

Eve can feel the chill soar through her blood, the coldness bringing the synapses of her brain to a standstill, unable to process anything as she stiffens numbly in the overbearing heartache. 

The young Sister's guilt is suffering in the silence and empty space where her heart tries to woefully, blossom feelings for the dangerous man beside her. Even her flowered faith, was perishing and he knew exactly what he was doing to her, as he almost watched those petals fall and die into a mimicking of the black soul he possesses.

"I'm sorry about that – but you must know that whatever _was_ happening, can't ever happen again, because if someone found out..." She rambled, panic rising once more in her guts. Her eyes meet his, "I'd lose everything."

Kylo Ren's sadistic smirk is driving her crazy and punching itself into her chest to only slither up to the heart inside, manifesting itself through the swirl of emotions and with sinister intentions, holding her hostage. 

He only chuckles, and shakes his head loosely to himself, "Eve," He called her, sucking one last time on his cigarette, before throwing it to the floor and crushing the tobacco with his heel.

Then blinking slow, she awaits his words, but he seems to pause for a short moment. A migraine is slowly starting to pound in his skull, and his temples throb with every pulse. Kylo then opens his eyes, dark brown raising to her, who sat so beautifully upon his uncomfortable bed, as if it was his home and she was pretending as if it was inviting. 

Patient 727's gaze trails over the right curve of her jaw, where she has craned her neck away from him, looking out the window instead of meeting his stare. She's a delicate beauty to behold, an enchanting sight in which should be only created in a soft serving of mystic epiphanies – her dark surroundings seem to coil into euphoric greeneries around her, and in his mind, all he can see is the same vision in which carried him to a peaceful sleep, amiss all the torture. 

He swallowed roughly, the muscle beneath his eye, twitching and making his scar ache, "You never had anything in the first place, and even if you _did_ have faith before, it's _clearly_ lost now." He pointed out, with a mere nod. 

The needle of her moral compass swayed madly in different directions.

The tiny prick in her heart, didn't wish to draw to him, like he was a magnet to her internalised silver, but it still dialled over and allowed him to slay her with truths, in which she never even wished to admit to herself.

It's daunting, the way everything seems to rapidly change. She would have never even guessed that she would ever allow her faith to be swayed by a prisoner, who had done unspeakable things only in the name of being virtuous. The toe-nail shaped moon still managed to creep through his cell window, and she knew the warm, milky glow in the dark sky, was enough illumination for the Lord to see the baring of her undoubtable sins.

Eve's tongue tastes of the primal desire which had been buried deep, but she had never been so devoted to a man other than Jesus before – and why it had to be the distraught, insane, psychotic, Kylo Ren, was beyond her prayer's reconditions. 

The grief of her lost religion came in waves and threatened to consume her wellbeing entirely. It was like a silent whisper of a demon which tapped on her warm shoulder and reminded her of the mind swirling happenings that her holy life had become in the fate of both horrible and lustful days.

He's the blackest of nights, but that doesn't mean she has to freeze in his icy chill. There's still a chance that she can leave this hoax of faithless reorient. Her moral compass may be broken, but that doesn't mean her mind is – just as Kylo's truely is scrambled beyond repair. 

She shakes her head and stands, deciding that she cannot make decisions especially with him around, for if he uses his hands to give out orders, she will definitely listen. Eve then picks up the tray and thrown silverware from the floor – Kylo suddenly speaks again.

"You know that there is something which keeps pulling us together," His voice is rough and coarse, but he speaks them as if he is still trying not to scare her, "It's as if both the Devil and the Lord are playing us like chess, and observing the way your morality tries to fight against my iniquity."

Snapping back to life as if his words had shot an arrow into her heart, Eve sucks a sharp breath into her chest and turns back to the minacious, _but somehow gentle with only her,_ man.

The young Sister swallows the lump in her throat, understanding one thing clearly and suddenly, something in which she _had_ always known. She's glad that her thoughts may be masqueraded to her gratitude of the Lord's chosen right to watch, rather than impose – but that didn't stop Kylo Ren from reading Eve's emotions as if they were a fairytale.

Deplorably, lust-fuelled scenarios, which keep clawing their way into her nerves and feeding on the roots of her deepest fears, rush back into her but she keeps her face casual with no hint of hesitation for him to read just as easily, "I have to go. You have a good night, Kylo Ren." 

He nods only once, his shoulders somewhat slacking at her dismissal, but then leaning back onto the wall that his single bed rests against. Even from her place and in the dark, the mattress still looked as uncomfortable as it felt when she sat on it – and he didn't even have a pillow for the bloody case.

She sighs, "Is there anything I can get for you, before I go?"

To her surprise, he answers with a smile, eyes shifting back upon her, "Actually, there is, my _sweet_ Eve..."

Eve tilts her veiled head to the side, but he can still remember the colour beneath it, "And what might that be?" She utters. 

Smugness contoured the inmate's facial features with a generous glow, illuminating his bloody and bony, well-carved cheeks. Perspiration veiled his face and mist began to fog his windows – the cold night reaching its peak.

Kylo Ren's golden, brown eyes flicker to the window for a moment, following the moonlight only back to her, as it grazes Eve's face. He keeps those heavy browns lingering along the cherry pink of her cheeks as he says slowly and for once, without much thought...

"You're going to get me the _Hell_ out of here."

She smiled, "Nice try," Eve only rolled her eyes, not yet understanding how serious the inmate was truely being, "Now, _seriously,_ is there anything else that you want?"

Kylo Ren smirked and chuckled too, "You..." He sarcastically chimed as he picked up the packet of smokes and used the pillowcase to try and dry the cardboard. 

He missed the way her lips trembled.

Then, Patient 727 tilted his head, side to side, and returned his eyes back upon _his_ Eve...

"And, maybe a lighter."


	7. SIX

She's not crazy. No, she can't possibly be – but this temptation of darkness is what draws her light into the trappings of inky insanity. The creed within is emancipating, and the hope of regaining it, seemed to be more difficult than just letting it sail out of her chest, and into the chilly wind's despair.

Eve had never been wilfully converted into the church, but it was her own traitorous and departing parents, who had summoned on the proselytism and locked her into the house of God, forevermore – she had nowhere else to go back then, otherwise she would be considered an orphan, so she resentfully allowed the light to nurture her... but still, there was never a day where she didn't feel invisible, or impalpable to the Lord's voice during her constant vacillation.

Though, ever since she had left the monastery for the shadows of White-Ivy, the smothering of treachery is burrowing into the beat of her heart, where the faith is slowly burning away again, and into the bitter fires of the Devil's domain – and it was all because of one, insane man, who didn't believe that he was either the Lord, nor Satan's humble servant, but in-fact, he was just a _human,_ who had been damaged by the ongoing fights between the light and dark.

Kylo Ren – even his name tastes like freedom, despite the everlasting factor that he is someone who has been rightfully stripped from liberty and amnesty, for the rest of his inauspicious life.

Guards escorted the inmate down a horrifically darkened hallway, where prisoners constantly reached out their filthy hands through the open bars, trying to grip or lash onto anything they could to satisfy their deadly needs – not knowing that the deadliest man in this penitentiary, was the very one walking down the corridor, with shackled hands, two guards and a timid Sister by his tall side.

Eve swallowed uncomfortably at the freakish nature unfolding in the cells that they pass on the lower levels of the western ward. This certain area was the wing closest to the dining hall, and where the patients who were lesser threats stayed, meaning most shared a cell with other inmates, but weren't given the privacy of walls, nor doors – all they had was a cage of bars around them... and they seemed to ravish on the excitement of watching one of the sickest, walk through their territory.

Patient 727 was like a untethered tiger walking through a small-town street, but Sister Eve undoubtably knows that the other patients wouldn't be so snark, if the tiger's limbs weren't shackled, and they weren't hidden on the other side of their fences.

Guard Roberts wore a smug smile as he lead Kylo Ren, swinging around his baton and even banging it against the sides of some cells, when the prisoners would chortle something crude about him – but never did he care for the disgusting remarks they made about the young Sister who followed, to which Kylo Ren only wrung his shackles tighter around his wrists, resisting the temptation to break a few extended arms with the silver chain instead.

Eve didn't utter one word, nor meet Kylo's gaze upon summoning him out of his cell. Her throat was tightened by the unshakable knot of dread and the apprehension was seeping further and further into her bones. Her words had still been stolen by Patient 727, because of last night – to which she tried to collect them this morning, but still, she had no idea where her head was at, and how she was supposed to refuse his hidden propositions.

He is the silhouette of primordial fear, and the lust in his eyes hold the realm of the unknown. Eve's mind is riding the winds of her own imagination, trying to decipher through the damage of faith, and find where her morality may still inhabit – she seems to keep forgetting about the fact that Kylo Ren is a psychotic serial killer, and despite his boasts that he did all those horrible things, for a greater good – it was still unnerving.

But when she eventually leads him into the dining hall, where only a few patients occupy the space – huddling around a small, fuzzing television – she meets his eyes for the first time that day. In the golden ring that rises in the deep brown of his orbs, she can almost see her own reflection, and the truth that rests upon the crimson of her cheeks.

There's still unanswered tension in the smothering thickness of the air between them. His mere gaze has the power to stop the black and white movement on the television screen, and even halt the ticking clock on the far wall. Eve is captured in the bronze city that lives in the light of his eyes, but there is a pensive, night of darkness that mellows behind them. 

She wonders what may have become of them, if she wasn't tied to the curse of commitment, and he wasn't criminally insane – perhaps, she would have allowed him to hold her hand as they walked down the street freely, or even lay his oversized jacket over her exposed shoulders, just like those women she often envied, did – but she wasn't free, and neither was he.

She tears her eyes away, and offers him a seat in-front of the television, but he just shakes his head and walks to one of the empty tables, hoping that she would follow and not Guard Roberts, which was guaranteed – for the older man had already taken a seat in the corner of the room, pretending that his attention was on the drooling inmates and not the black and white screen.

When Eve was about to take the seat across from him, Kylo made a sound in the back of his throat, and nudged his head to the chair beside him. She told herself that it was because he still wanted to watch the screen, so she did as he wished – ignoring the way their shoulders briefly brushed as she sat down.

They still made no effort to talk, and the bareness of their conversation was almost driving _her_ crazy. Kylo Ren almost acted as if she wasn't even there as his eyes moved distantly to the screen, which kept tuning in and out – forcing an inmate, to keep smashing his hands on the sides of the box until it worked.

Forbidden desire and forbidden feelings were the top contemplations and conflicts that whirled and twirled in the pusillanimous Sister's whirlpool of thoughts. Eve stared at the screen too, but her attention was only focussed on the abused, red mark upon the right side of Kylo's temple.

In the meanwhile, the symphony of the distorted shrill of the television, kept looping as a background noise against the babbling of frustrated lunatics, some of them banging bluntly and restlessly against their hallow heads – and again, that same patient from before, groaning and smacking the side of the small box. Kylo Ren chuckled at the commotion, and only then did Eve notice that he wasn't watching the movie, but rather the patients. Her lips slightly rose upwards too.

Shortly after, Kylo then began to rummage his left hand which had a splattering of blisters and grazes upon his white knuckles, into his jumpsuit's pocket to retrieve the same cigarette packet from last night – the cardboard case was still ruined and dirty, but the rolled tobacco was pristine in its condition, as he plucked out one and sunk the end between his teeth.

He didn't even have a single match on him, but she only swallowed down the lump in her throat, and reached into the hidden pocket stitched into the black of her drapes. He made no notion for a lighter, but his beautiful Eve only grabs what she had regrettably stolen from the visitor's lost and found box, earlier that day, and passes it over to him with a secret, longing stare.

Idiotically, an uncontrollable grin inclined his facial muscles to manipulate his cherub lips upwards. The epitome of the real insanity and wretchedness, reigning behind the dully lifeless walls of the mental institution, only illuminated upon his mischievous smile and his chocolate, brown pools with the warmest chocolate mottling in his irises, shimmered.

Their hands brushed as he took the lighter from the delicacy of her dainty fingers – her touch was warm, he was cold.

"I couldn't thank you enough," He said with a low murmur, "My angel."

Bashful timidness punctured the utterly devotional holy woman's skin, and her breath hitched in the tightness of her throat. He had given another name to her, but despite the fact that she had managed to ignore the divulgence of Eve – this tender sobriquet, was one that was often given to a lover, and never once in her life, did she think that a man, let alone one as attractive as Kylo Ren, would relish her with an endearment so cooly.

She belonged entirely to the Lord, and He was the one who would purloin her hand in marriage – but in this suspense of time, as she watches Kylo now light the end of his toxic cigarette, she can't help but wish as if she belonged to him as easily as he belonged to his silver shackles.

 _My angel –_ the very words keep tingling on her pink tongue.

Kylo Ren takes a long drag of the cigarette between his ivory teeth, the hint of sweetness collecting in his mouth, the same as a tainted one is bitten onto the inside of her cheek as she watches him.

He held the smoke in his lungs for a second before he exhaled, allowing the smoke to escape his lips in white, cloudy tendrils. The smell made even Eve's own lungs burn as she inhaled his very breath, resisting the urge to cough it back out shortly after, when the smoke began to burn the sides of her throat.

Kylo makes a noise of approval, and sighs as he sinks further into his chair, and spreads out his knees comfortably. He stares at the tobacco stick between his long fingers, and reminisces about the days he would sit in his car, and blow the smoke out the window.

Guard Roberts had a tacky, grotesque brand, and Kylo preferred to roll his own smokes instead of having pre-rolled – but he couldn't complain, for upon the initial taste, his mind relaxed for a moment, and even removed the aching dull from his electrified temples.

As he takes another slow drag, after shoving the lighter into his pocket, the inmate at the front of the hall, punches the sides of the television again, and causes Eve to flinch out of her ill state of mind, which whirled around the way his pink lips pursed around the white stick.

Kylo scoffs beneath his breath and rolls his eyes, as a guard tells the inmate to calm down, or else there will be consequences. He shakes his head and blows out the smoke from his chest.

Eve furrows her brows at his blatantly obvious detestation and finally speaks.

"What is it?" She asks, glancing between the inmate at the front, and then back to the handsome one beside her.

Every single time that she looked at him, it was a shock to her internal system – for someone so evil, should not look so beautifully perfect in all their scarred flaws. Kylo Ren had the kind of face that stopped all movement around him and even brought the light's attention to his tortured, white skin, enlightening it to a soft glory, though all that is beyond the thin flesh, is deemed to be a harsh soul.

He glanced simply to her and raised the cigarette to his lips, speaking against it before inhaling, "This place is already overflowing with looneys, and they just keep letting in more," He muttered with distaste, once again acting as if he was sane, and as if he was better than every other person who walked this mortal world.

Eve swallowed roughly, suddenly feeling the walls of White-Ivy drawing in on her. Kylo Ren was trapped here forever, and already he is resenting those who share the space. It shouldn't matter if he wanted to be here, or not – but it somehow did to her.

It was bewildering, the little hints inside her that cared for such a hostile human. Kylo Ren was such a mysterious person, but his words were always so prominent and understandable in their tangible poetry.

There were still moments where Eve often wondered if he _was_ insane, or just a criminal. But again, what Kylo truely was, didn't matter – for the dark, concrete walls were still etching in on her faith, more and more, providing a bigger cage than the one in her head – and all at once, she knew that this dining hall is as far away as he will ever get from his cell, for the rest of his _damned_ life.

Her lips parted softly, "Well, it is a home for the criminally insane, and the mentally unfit..." She retorted flatly, shrugging her veiled shoulders when he turned to face her with a raised brow, "What else is there to expect?"

Kylo breathes a loud breath out of his prominent nose, and remnants of smoke follow. For a moment, it seemed as if he was just going to ignore her words – which he was, until she bit lightly on her bottom lip.

"Just because someone is labeled with insanity, doesn't mean that they should be thrown in with the rest of the misfits." He explained with a coy smirk, "Nothing heals what is already torn. The white walls and metal cradles don't help subduing the scrambled brains, it only gives it a blanker surface for the madness to thrive. I'm going to leave here, crazier than I ever was."

 _Leave here –_ He _is_ insane if he thinks that he's ever going to get let out.

She glances away as the heat rushes to her face – worried that if she makes any further eye contact, it could trigger something which she didn't desire.

But then, in her peripheral vision, she noticed his large hand slowly raise and itch closer to her – she quickly snapped her face back to him and her hand gripped onto his wrist instinctively. For a brisk second, Eve thought that perhaps, with her constant questions, Kylo had decided that he had enough of her and wished to do harm.

Though, as they sit in a silent stare off – there is no hostility upon his face, nor rushing in the veins that she clenches her dainty fingers around almost tighter than the cuffs did around his wrists. She gasps when he runs his tongue along his bottom lip, and in one heartbeat, she uncurls her fingers, letting him go.

The shackles clink in the air, but suddenly, his hand still moves beneath the table, and rests gently on her thigh. Eve's frazzled nerves jumped all together, and in different directions, much like the hundreds of butterflies which swarmed her stomach did. She had never been touched this way before, and she knew that she should have moved her leg away from his hand, but she only kept it there.

The tightness in her guts reminds her of fabricated deadlines both near and distant, demanding that she make a choice – either refuse to be swayed into Kylo's incredible darkness and kneel back before the light, or exile herself from her faith and bury herself into the shadows. 

As the fear elopes the young Sister again, she is tightened beneath its smothering ring of fire as his eyes still bore onto her. She knits her brows together and tilts her head, trying to act as if every inch of her skin isn't scorching, beneath her uniform.

"You still disagree with your sentence?" She questions him – already knowing his answer.

His hand grips her thigh tighter, if that was even possible – and if he can't hear the thunderous beat of her heart above the static of the television and the groans of the drooling patients, Eve is certain that he must at least feel it in the veins where he cuts off the pulse that shoots circulation to the Sister's right foot, which begins to bounce nervously. 

His stare is harsh, but that smirk never changes, making her breathe a small breath of relief. Those brown eyes then flicker to her lips. "I don't belong here," Kylo Ren mumbles.

The Sister doesn't even think about her next words, but he doesn't punish her for the brutality in their meaning, "You skinned four young women."

Kylo Ren shrugs. His face is straight and emotionless as his eyes narrow at her honesty. It wasn't as if he could protest, for he had done that, and so much more – but he still doesn't feel guilty, for those actions lead him right here, with her beneath his palm.

"I told you already – they deserved it. They were demons wearing a cloak of virtue, as did everyone else that I saved humanity from."

Patient 727 nodded, his jaw tensing slightly – to which Eve has to remind herself that there is something beneath this straight calm – and the little piece of darkness that he possesses, slips as he only continues.

"Those demon's did worse than I ever could."

Eve's heart stutters when those burning eyes laid back upon her, and they tore a hole into her crying soul, which still ignorantly wanted and lusted after the touch he now laid with those fingers that curled around the expand of her covered thigh, so lecherously.

She was lost with just his flicker of a gaze that laid upon her red cheeks – slowing time into a stretched out continuum that even made the blood in her veins pause until her heart began to beat thunderously once more, bringing her back to life before his soulful browns, when suddenly, _they shifted._

"You don't believe me," He stated, unable to control his pique.

Her mouth was dry, but her lips were still glazed with a prosperous invite. She still sat next to him, lithe even with her defensive, armoured heart, which was slowly breaking out of the silverware.

"It's hard to," She whispered to him, forgetting about their surroundings momentarily.

Kylo's other hand drops his cigarette to the polished and sanitised floors, and the heel of his shoe grinds it against the hardwood.

"It'll get easier with time –" Kylo began, his hand still resting upon her thigh, as if finally, she was all his. There were still little moments where he would see the trepidation flinch upon the surface of her face, just as it did now – but so long as he knows that he would never intentionally hurt his Eve, he doesn't care about her internalised alarm.

He would never lay his sinister touches on her, as brutally as he did with those demons, but as he stares to her alluring enchantment, he only wished to pierce her heart with the bullet of his devotion.

Kylo's eyes are so memorising even in this artificial lighting, that the Sister could be pulled into his gravity if it weren't for the malice that weighed his illumination down, like an anchor in his heart. Eve opens her mouth to speak, but suddenly, a loud and echoing crash could be heard from the front of the dining hall.

The Sister moves her thigh away from his hand as they both turn their faces to the front of the room, meeting the sight of the unfolding scene.

The television has shattered to pieces, ricocheting across the floors of the dining hall as the electricity spikes and snaps into the chill of the air. The patient who had been laying his punches upon the sides of it, stands above the colossal mess, with a vexed, red face and a shrilling cry erupting from his twisted lips.

It doesn't take long before the other patients in the dining hall, begin to create a rampage because of the destroyed television, which fizzled and died at the patients feet – and in one quick movement, another man rises from his seat and tackles the culprit to the floor, throwing fists into his face.

And soon enough, all the other _looneys_ get involved in the fight, purely because without the television screen gripping onto their brains, there is only space for the insanity to bleed into their adrenalised veins, leading to a riot among the hall, in the matter of only seconds.

The sounds of clanking, thrown batons begin to clash against the soft drops of rain against the windows, as Guard Roberts and his second constable, run to the scene and whack the dozen or so, inmates to the ground as they try to get to the main fight in the middle.

Eve abruptly stands from her seat, eyes wide and filled with anxiety. In the mess of throwing limbs, she lets out a small scream as she sees Guard Roberts strike his baton upon the back of a patient's head, causing blood to squelch out and spurt across the black weapon.

She was utterly terrified – but Kylo's eyes only gleamed, and as he stands too with his chains rattling against his knees, he gets an idea.

"... And that _time_ seems to be now," He whispered low to himself, then grabbing onto Eve's elbow as her hands went to cup over her mouth. She had never seen something so violent before, and this sight was mortifying to her gentle humanity. 

Kylo casually turns her to face him as the commotion only continues, and he knows that more guards are surely on their way so he is quick to pull on her arm and demand, "Come with me."

Eve can feel the chill soar through her blood, the coldness bringing the synapses of her brain to a standstill, unable to process anything as her stomach twists with consternation. A loud alarm begins to ring from the speakers, just as Guard Roberts catches a kick to the shin. 

In the midst of shock and wild panic, Eve stuttered incoherent words, trying to formulate what Kylo's intentions were as he tried to pull her to the back exit. 

"What!?" She almost cried, pulling against Kylo's hand which was wrapped tightly around her elbow, "Where are you going? You can't just get up and leave –"

Kylo stops in his footsteps, causing her to smack right into his back before he turns around and faces her again. There's a pensive swirl of emotion in his golden eyes and just as the world begins to spin around the hue, a familiar voice pulls her astray and gravitates her back to the surface.

"What are they going to do... Shackle me up? Electrocute me?" He shook his head, his tone sarcastic and quick as he only counts the seconds before a swarm of guards charge into the hall.

His words sink in Eve's mind the way a pebble would drop in quicksand, slow and devouring. All at once, the realisation strikes her sharper than any dagger could cut and her eyes blow wider as he only leans his face closer to her's and whispers with a bellowing breath,

"I can do whatever I want, and you can too."

The feeling within her chest, tugs on her heartstrings like the music of a great orchestra. Everything was happening too fast, and too soon. The Sister's mind was sent reeling, unable to comprehend or process the confession made by the tall and dangerous man, who was trying to get her to defy both her faith, and now her orders to keep him tamed.

She tried to ignore all the raging, disturbing, or inappropriate things that the other inmates were shouting behind them and focused on the build of dread formulating inside her body.

The Lord couldn't tell her what would happen, the moment she nods her head and follows him out of the dining hall, but neither could the egregious, Devil.

Kylo could see the fight between her faith and inclination, battle to be the decider of her next choice. He can almost see the brain cogs clicking in her mind, behind the glossy eyes.

Every muscle in Eve's body just froze as her heart swells in a tug of war that can't chose between the light and the dark, for they are clashing inside her soul, and mixing into a deadly poison for her morality.

The battling fight comes in waves, gruelling and stretching her thin. The conflict is a shard in her guts but somehow the edges are dull, causing more pain as it only tears her insides rather than slices – the only antidote to her pain, is to make a choice, but she knows that more torture should only result in the path she truely wishes to take. 

This was the final straw. Everything that she had been holding inside, built up slowly for this climatic moment – she nods.

Kylo's lips rose into a wide smile, the scar on his face tightening around the rose of his mouth.

"Come on," He said with the flourishing grin, baring his baleful but beautiful, ivory teeth to shine beneath the flickering lights of the dining hall – because one globe had shattered into a thousand pieces, as a man in the back throws his shoe at it.

Eve only follows the Devil, wherever he leads her to... and his last words are only echoing in her sick mind, after he had whispered them so exquisitely into her ear.

_"– Let's go somewhere where the only one watching us, is your deplorable God."_


	8. SEVEN

Eve seemed to have crossed one of those legendary rivers that divide the living from the dead, and her faith had remorselessly entered a place in which cowered herself to be easily captivated by the sinister man, who was plagued by a disease of the mind.

A new bad, terrible, and utterly treacherous deceit has been summoned from the heart beating tremendously in her chest – it was encouraged by the constant pedants and sophisticates that was adorned by the mere words of the insane patient, Kylo Ren.

Once again, she's terrified but now only of herself. The pain of being deemed a sinner, is principled but the evil who clings to her soul, is treason to her humanity.

Her light is in shambles, rotting away and dying in the bleakness, while the only thing that buries it is her own anathemas. There's no going back now, she's already been dragged too far down multiple corridors, and along the way, her morality had been dropped and lost.

Kylo Ren grips somewhat harshly onto her wrist, and tugs her wherever he wills to go – occasionally pulling her into dark corners whenever he hears the stomps of guard's polished shoes, or the rattling of incoming chains.

There was a sense of urgency exerting off his skin, and the patient knows that he only has a select amount of time before the guards notice that the two of them are missing – presumably leading to a penitentiary wide search. His chains are tight around his wrists, and the silver dangling between his hands, often accidentally wraps around Eve's own forearm – binding her with him, as if the metal even knew she deserved to be punished for her oncoming sins.

They both burn with desire, but Eve isn't too sure what that caving feeling in her chest, truely means – she blames it upon the weight of her now corrupt debauchery. The lights flicker rapidly in the hectic hour of only noon, and as they run further and further away from the dining hall, the alarm silences to the pounding in their ears and the thuds of their feet against the polished floors.

Eve panted in her wild panic, and her tumbling legs nearly kept tripping on the tangling of her lower robe – but Kylo only kept lifting her back to an upright position by a forceful pull on her wrist. She could see the rise of red around her skin, which had been exposed as her sleeve had slightly rolled up, and the fingerprints of bruises almost matched the scarlet burns around Kylo's chained hands.

The deeper they tumbled into the corridors of White-Ivy, the more the lights flashed. It gave Eve the impression that God was furious with her, and was letting her go as easily as she had lost grip on her trust of brilliance – for her eyes no longer focused on those brief illuminations from the overhead bulbs, but instead on the darkness that it gave, when it flickered. The ghastly dimness swallowed her racing thoughts and stole her body heat. It smothered her mouth, and veiled her morality – but it was Kylo Ren himself, who blessed her with rampant insanity.

He pulled her relentlessly by multiple prison-cells, some empty, some not – but never did he slow the movement of his feet until the rooms began to spread out, as did the inmates.

A shiver trickles down her spine, and there's a shift in the air as Kylo glances in every direction of the hallway, before finally pulling her into an empty cell – closing the door with a rough slam, shortly after.

The darkness swallows them whole. She can barely see him anymore, but she can feel the warmth of his bellowed breath, fan the scarlet upon her face. There's still so much space between them to cross, but his hands are only holding tightly onto her wrists still – keeping her potent and stable as her legs wobble and tremble beneath her weight.

There is a twist in her guts, and her skin has frozen over with a layer of apprehension – she doesn't know what is to truely come, but as Kylo's hands unclasp from her wrists, and a long finger brushed the pink of her bottom lip. Eve's breath hitched, and a sheer gloss of tears rose above the darkened colours of her eyes.

She shouldn't be doing this – whatever _this_ even was. The church of her soul is helpless, lost to grief and addiction, seeking the barest semblance of comfort amongst the burning gleam that she can now see in his distant eyes, and the smothering musk that his chest elutes.

His hands were soft, despite his ultimate roughness – silky smooth almost, as if he bathed in the milky waters of the Heavens. But a fearful part of her mind, tells her that it is because his fingers imitated velvet, after all those times he had dipped them into the blood of his victims. Eve's body shook against his touch now – she could be his next. Maybe, this was what he wanted all along, to get her alone to murder her in the shadows... _one last kill._

Those three words even rung in the own murk of his deadly mind, for the opportunity was faithfully here, right now. He could kill _his_ Eve with the snap of his fingers... but that wasn't ever his style. He took his time with his terminations – he tortured them, snarked at their pain, ripped the spines from their backs, broke them, and kept those demons conscious the whole time. He used to love the way they screamed and begged through their false tears, which only bled into the over-fuel of crimson and their transgression of nature.

He had brought her here, but now Eve has nowhere left to run – rightfully, this was all her fault, whatever was to come... but that idea only made Kylo smirk, for she was so pure and vigilant, until it came to him... there is a chance that he will become the death of her, but that doesn't mean he'd intentionally kill her light.

Does his sweet, little angel, have any idea that the Devil is trespassing on her holy ground, but the inviting thrill in her eyes, is what only lets it sink into her soul? 

Kylo only takes two footsteps closer and their noses brush, leaving her gasp to slowly and measly, echo throughout the small space of the eerie, abandoned cell – but _still_ she's rooted in her place.

It's instinctual, Kylo presumes – the fear that buries its poisoned claws into her heart, seeping the toxic lacing into her veins like ice. His tongue licks his bottom lip delicately, the same way a lion would polish its sharp teeth before devouring its prey.

"Don't be afraid," He whispered to Eve, but the phenomenon that he could sense the scatterings of her emotions, only created more consternation.

The chains around his wrists coldly cupped the bottom of her chin as he now held her face between his overly large hands, "I'm not," Eve's voice quivered, pointing out the lie in her tone.

Kylo leaned in and smelled the girl's cheek, and like a pathetic creature, Eve shivered against him as his lips brushed her flesh.

She can almost taste the sweetness of his breath, the metallic tang of his facial scar and blistering burns on the sides of his temples. There's a sudden prickling sensation at the nape of her neck, and she can feel the tiny hairs stand against the cotton of her veil.

The patient's hand slithered from her cheek and to the back of her concealed head, grasping onto a handful of her veil and slightly tugging it off her scalp, to pepper his mouth against the thin strands of hair that fell – but she made no sound, and he pulled her forward as roughly as he could manage. 

Eve's hands stayed stiffly by her sides – unsure of what to do as the anxiety eloped her. She was a nervous wreck, and there was a tangible voice in the back of her mind now, telling her to turn around and run for her skin.

Chewing anxiously on the inside of her mouth, with fingers twisting into her palms and her nails digging into the skin – the Sister found herself visibly shaking and on the verge of crying, all while her morality struggles to regain some semblance of control over her faith. Her armoured heart was removing its plates of metal, and her walls were crashing down to the Devil's feet – stripping her free from all the good and ethical benevolence.

Something strange was surging within her warm blood, turning her cold. Never had a man craved her as much as Kylo Ren seemed to, and she had never assumed that anyone would ever care for her anyway.

She's a bride of the Lord – that was her only purpose, wasn't it?

Patient 727 pulled away from her, and noticed the way she trembled. A breath hitched in the middle of her throat again, and on his face was a look of suspicion of some sort, his eyes intensely focusing in on her, _staring._

"You're filled with hesitations, but you don't know what there is to even be hesitant about," Kylo whispered upon her face – once again, reading her as if the pages of her emotions, were written in the whites of her eyes, "Why?" He asks.

"Because, I shouldn't be doing this..." She replied, this time telling the upmost truth, for that is all the good in her she had left to give, "I shouldn't be here, with you."

He was tall. So tall, that she had to crane her neck up to meet his dark eyes. If he wanted to do harm to her, there was no point for running now, she didn't stand a chance. He sighed and blinked slowly, as if they had been over this a thousand times before.

The Sister could feel his body heat, his breath, his entire existence against her – he almost felt like darkness itself. The smothering bleak towered over her, seeming to eat her virtue whole. She breathed out shakily, preparing for the pain that he could bestow upon her.

"Just because your faith tells you that you shouldn't do something, doesn't mean that you have to listen..." He muttered, his large hands now falling to her shoulders, positioning her closer into his stare, "Your morality has aways blinded you, and it weighs on your conscience. Let it go."

The patient looked the Sister over, his eyes tracing every square inch of her mystical being – it was strange that despite all the conflict within her, considering the wars of the light and darkness, never once did she think about the obvious power differences between the two of them. He was physically stronger and demented with cruel intentions, but she had the ultimate cogency of freedom beyond these walls... although, it was the trappings of her religion that kept her captive.

Eve shook her head. "I–I can't, Kylo," she stuttered, her own hands rising to his, and laying upon his chilled touch, "This isn't good. This isn't virtuous to my humanity... I can't let the light go, and bury myself in your darkness for it will destroy my act of benevolence, which I have struggled to work for my _whole_ life."

She looks into Kylo's shadow-adorned eyes, drawn further and further into them the longer she dares to look. It's not until she can feel his breath on her face again, that she realises their close proximity and a blush races across her cheeks. He seems to notice, but then his eyes slowly gravitate to the rosary around her neck, and so does his right hand as he polishes the silver cross between his dirty fingers.

Sensing her remaining doubt, Kylo Ren pulled her face closer by tugging on the rosary, "Yes, you can." He said, his tone suddenly tasting sour.

His eyes gravitated back to her's, "Eve, there's no such thing as good, nor bad – it is all just a ploy to our makers. Everyone's messed up, but nobody is truely crazy. In each of us, two clashes are at war – the virtuous and the evilly damned. All our lives the fight goes on between the sides, but eventually _one_ of them must conquer. But in our own hands lies the power to choose, for really, there will never be a consequence to your chosen path."

She let out a few short breaths, watching him idly as he only began to inch closer, to which she backtracked until she was pressed against the wall. The way he moved was so... strange. Short steps and slow motions. He truely was a monster, one who lurked in the shadows and lured the light upon the porcelain shine of his bloodthirsty canines – but his hand still only held her rosary, carefully. 

The relief settled in quickly at the thought that _maybe_ he didn't intend on harming her, but the fear of what she was about to surrender, still nibbled at her heart. Hesitantly, Eve's body relaxed at his poetic words, which could be considered _beautifully_ manipulative.

His lips twitched, she watched the pink fold around his teeth – the weight might have lifted off her shoulders if she thought to herself, that she'd pray for forgiveness tonight, just like she had done everyday since they both arrived to White-Ivy – but suddenly, she knew all too well that she could never pray the Devil away, so it must be more remunerative or innocuous, to only invite the _bastard_ in and hope that he wont destroy her from the inside.

Kylo Ren could only see it unraveling in her mind – the Devil was crawling up his throat, "If your Lord really was good, He wouldn't have lead you right to me..." He whispered upon her, as his grip desperately wanted to tear the rosary from her neck, "Perhaps, this was your chosen destiny... to be in my arms?"

 _Chosen destiny_ – she gasps.

Eve's body is a vessel for intrigue, anxiety, fear. She's tangled in the clutching of calamity, spending her time in the secret shades of darkened corners, and black eyes. No longer does she wish that the inky, mournful, darkness, has the smothering power to hide her from the prospect of the Lord, but also his army of angels, and... herself.

She turns her face away from him, and glares at the shadows of the cell. Eve doesn't even know who she is anymore, or who she has become – for starters, she has allowed herself to be given a new epithet – a name in which was never truely her's, but rather the calling of Kylo Ren. There is a hollowness at the core of her being, she once thought that she was a virtuous girl, but never did she predict that she had the potential to cradle an evil monster, and inflict herself with his insane propositions.

 _'There is no such thing as good, nor bad'_ – she hopes that Kylo Ren is speaking the truth, because the misplaced feeling in her chest for him, will send her straight to the deepest depths of Hell.

Inmate 727 smirks down at her. It was a little reassuring that she wasn't showing any signs of refusal, and the focus in her gaze, only proved her willingness to obey – which made Kylo feel a little hot on the inside.

A long time ago, he also didn't understand why God had done this to him either. Why he made him so fundamentally wrong and sinister. He told his priest that he didn't think he had a choice but to be a sinner, and he told him that of course he could – he could always just _not_ sin – but as Kylo Ren grew through the pains of humanity, and realised that it was both the Devil and God, who made him like this, he realised that there was no reason to be torn between the light and dark, for his makers are a kaleidoscope of complex detriments and prejudices, _too._

He swallowed roughly before speaking again, "Eve, tell me your confessions, and I promise you that I will listen more intently than your Lord ever could."

The inmate's eyes glared back to the cross in his hand, wondering why it wasn't melting into his skin, as she only gives him silence.

After considering for a long moment, she finally gave in and flickered her eyes back to his at the same time he looked up, and their stares meet _dead on,_ in the darkness. He couldn't help but smile at her bold behaviour, and he wondered if she was a rare angel, who tore out the white feathers of her wings, and waited for the black quills to grow in the wounds.

Eve's heart rate picked up and she raised her head with ease, "I–I want to touch you, Kylo," She says with veracity and gospel revelations sparkling in her eyes, "And my confession must mean that I am as sick as everyone else here."

The deranged man smiled. She had _finally_ given herself over to him, _willingly._

"Angel," Kylo Ren utters, his face moving closer to her's, "You are as sane as I am."

The Sister could've screamed, but before she knew it – his left hand had moved to the rosary his right had strung onto, but instead of gripping the beaded necklace, he wrapped his fingers around her throat and roughly pressed his lips against her's.

With his icy skin, thick black hair, and bold dark chocolate eyes that matched his unmistakably confident bearing, Kylo Ren was ravishing, but her tongue's taste was delightful. Eve had zero experience, but Kylo secretly figured that she'd have some sort of instinct that would take over. Her fingers uncurled from the indentations in her palms, and as her cheeks began to turn blue with the lack of oxygen, she only twisted her hands into his long hair.

His grip loosened, and she broke away from the wet kiss to inhale – sounding as if she was drowning beneath water, and the tide had finally lowered for a short moment, only for it to crash back upon her in a painful wave, as Kylo pulls her back into him. His tongue slithered through her teeth and swirled amongst her own, inexperienced one, which almost moved shyly around the silk of his own expertise.

There was no mercy in Kylo Ren's holding, for he was never a gentle soul. His fingers eventually found the curve of Eve's waist beneath the thickness of her drapes, and after the initial surprise of her true form, he pulled her further against his body – which was still covered by the dark jumpsuit, and the thin, dirty-white singlet.

A collision of shock and warmth, spread a tincture among the apprehension in Eve's chest and cloud it with a sense of sudden security. All at once, her brain is electrified and sends bolts sharper than the ones that burnt the flesh of his temples, through her warm blood and alerts all of her conflicting fears to take a break and indulge on this much needed touch.

His lips dance with her's reverently, but also roughly – she only melts into his chest, not knowing what she was doing, but satisfied with what was being given. The very smell of Kylo was invading her senses. Her fingers tugged onto his hair sharply, and he groaned into her mouth, causing her to tip her head back, smacking it hard into the stone wall that he held her against.

With lips no longer clashing, the pair's eyes now battled each-other but they stand frozen, from both fear and excitement. Suddenly, Kylo leans in again, just enough that his forehead rests against her trembling chin, leaving Eve to truely fall into the desirous emotions that were too unbearable for just _him_ to feel anymore – for her heart must be beating dangerously close to his own, sinking into his soul and mixing the lust of their sins _together._

The Sister doesn't truely know whether it is _him_ who _truely_ brings her heart to a erratic beat which pulsates to her very fingers that claw around his neck now, or if it is just the lonely need that has always been neglected from the feeling of fabricated passion – but she doesn't care anymore, for so long as he leads her with his rough hands, she will follow. 

"K-Kylo?" She stutters above him, the smell of his hair filling her nostrils as he keeps himself panting against her neck, "I-I've never done anything like thi–"

He cuts her off, "I know," The inmate rasps and pulls away from her chin, "Just let me dominate and teach you."

"Teach me?" She asked.

Kylo licked his lips, "Promise me that you will follow my directions, and do all that I say... My sweet angel."

Patient 727's words were not said in question, but rather, they were blandly stated – his demanding tone, sits at the bottom of his throat but his cognisance is forcing it to the pits of his stomach, as he tries not to scare her away, _too soon._

Eve nods, almost too quickly – eyes closed and heart open, "I promise."

The sexual tension was obviously laced in the thickness of the air – but she was still yet to experience something considered vetoed, vulgar, premarital and traitorous... _fornication?_

Though, it doesn't matter – she's too far gone. Her sanctuary might as well crumble to ash, and the stings of growing horns and an arrowed tail, should be painfully and persistently piercing through her tainted skin, any moment now.

A small and fragile whimper echoed in the cell as Kylo suddenly untangled himself out of her hands. He was backing away in the same manner in which he had approached, slowly and fitting to his predacious intentions.

She tears open her eyes, silently gaping at the sudden drop of expectations. He was walking away, steadily. Eve blinked, trying to answer her whirring thoughts, which were screaming and asking if this was real or not.

Was she even still alive, or was this some sick punishment in the afterlife – because truely, he had taken her to the cell to kill her?

From the chin up, minus the deathly paleness, his body sunk further into the haunting shadows – and when he fully moved out of the small amount of light, which crept through the gaps in the metal door, a pale hand was all that lured her to follow him. She interlocked her fingers into his, and joined him in the gloom... but he didn't lead her anywhere, in-fact the moment she came back to him, he snapped his hand from her's, and pushed her to the ground by her shoulders.

She crashes to her knees in one second, bruises quickly forming beneath her drapes, and a slight cry escaping her lips as she tries to steady herself by curling her fingers into the fabric of the inmate's pants.

"Let go of me," Kylo suddenly snapped, his voice distantly indignant. Shocked, Eve's eyes widened and her lips parted in an unsure manner, as she only held onto his thighs tightly. She could still see slightly in the dark, and the look upon his broken, scarred face had shifted into something much more affronted.

The Sister knelt before Kylo Ren, the same way in which she would bow before the cross and the sacrificed Lord upon it. When she raised a questioning brow and shook her head with bewilderment, Kylo Ren narrowed his darkened eyes.

"You promised," Was all he said, referring to their previous, lust-fuelled words.

The young Sister swallowed loudly, but her suddenly dry tongue was incapable of assisting, causing her throat to tighten. Fear begins to build in her moment of clarity, smothering her with its everlasting grip – she lets go of his thighs before the ghost of her conflict, drapes her beneath its sheet and carries her back to the grave of her sins.

Something eases upon his demeanour – perhaps it was the slight upturn of his lips, which the cut in his face moulded around. There's a fragile silence that settles over the pair, but the beat in her ears, which comes from the thudding heart in her chest, sounds like a thousand drums – until he spoke again, and all fell to his demand of attention.

"Good girl. _Now –"_ He praised her, as the hint of mischievousness glimmers in his black eyes, "... Pray."

"W-What?" She pulled away and stuttered slightly, chewing on her lower lip nervously as she tried to wrap her mind around his words, which made no sense.

Kylo Ren's right eye twitched, "You're already on your knees... now close your eyes and pray _for_ me."

She presses her knees further into the hard ground, and feels the icy chill sink through the thickness of her clothes. Her personal demon, who the Lord had summoned to follow her around like a shadow to find out if she was riddled with sins, has eyes that are burning her to absolute charcoal. Inside his gaze, trust is all she whispers to, but there is still that impenetrable grimness.

His smirk beckons but suspicion hinders. She buries her head to her woven fingers, trying to not think too hard about what pleasure he was getting out of watching her retreat back to her divinity. Her body quivered, and her hushed voice shook as she uttered the words to her light in the sky, but the ghastly shadow which towered above her, was the only thing in the world listening to her prayers.

Eve's a sacrificial, burning in the flames of vengeance – Kylo Ren is the fuel to the wrath. The inmate stood proud, chin tucked to his chest as he watched Eve tremble and murmur incoherent citations with her pretty eyes tightly closed. Kylo adored the way her tongue would sometimes poke out to wet her drying, moving lips – leaving them looking inviting and slick.

The sight was downright compelling. He suspected that he must be in shock, or at least still laying upon the surgery table as a million bolts are electrifying his brain to utter mush. But his Eve was really here, right this moment – _alone._ She's all his for the taking, and allowing herself to be captivated by his cruel design.

Poised for only a few seconds longer, he's bursting with lust and the temptation overwhelms passed what the darkness within him could tolerate – the quickening of his breath, the flaring of his nostrils, the scent of need rising up and off him, was becoming too much and eventually, he moved his chained hands to his rolled up, half-worn jumpsuit.

Eve hadn't even realised what was happening, until something hot and heavy, presses against her bottom lip. She stops her words, but can't seem to find the strength to open her eyes. She doesn't need to be experienced, nor a profligate woman, to know what that hard and tangy _thing_ was – a shudder ricocheted up her spine.

Kylo's the most aroused than he has ever been before. He holds the base of himself tightly, causing the blood to throb to his length's tip and then twitch upon the rose of her shuddering lips.

"Open up," Kylo rasps above her, his tone even vibrating in her bones, "Your purpose is bestowed upon your lips, my angel."

His other hand moves to her head, and his fingers pry the veil further away from her forehead. Kylo can feel strands beneath his fingernails, but he cannot see her true colours. Ignoring the twist in her guts, Eve reluctantly parts her lips open, braving the pulsating and thick member.

But as soon as he groans deeply and thrusts himself slowly into her mouth, she gasps and pulls away as his taste falls upon her pastel tongue. The patient growled and pulled his fingers away from her veil, to only then, violently scrape his nails down her face and to her lips.

Finally, she opens her eyes and peers up to him with surprise – taking in the demonic mask he wore, and the girth of his stripped lower half, as his jumpsuit bundled around his ankles, but his singlet was still covering his toned, heaving chest.

It was all too fast – one second, she is wincing at the stinging sensation upon her soft cheek, and the next she is gagging on two of his fingers, which slip into her mouth and curl behind her bottom teeth – Kylo pulls her by her white-ivory's, back to him.

"Don't worry," Kylo seethed, but forced a kind tone in the midst of his impatience, "Everything's going to be okay."

Again, Eve closed her eyes, and prepared herself for the worse. She sat on her heels, and braced for the pain as he pried her mouth open further, leaving his fingers wet with saliva as he then replaced them with his length, again.

This time, she didn't pull away but she did mould her lips around him, whimpering at the intimating thickness. Softly, Kylo lowered his hand back to her cheek, and brushed his fingers delicately against the scrape marks he had given to her. The scratches had turned red in the very second that he caused her harm, it was as if it was her body's natural reaction to the touch of the Devil.

Patient 727 hummed as he felt the shadow of his own soul, slither down her throat, touching places only the darkness could. He arched against his restraints, and inhaled sharply when her tongue slightly moved at the mid-base of his hard cock. 

Kylo's mouth and eyes shot wide open. He felt faint. "Oh God. Oh my God," He moaned, taking control of her mouth, and using her as a tool for his own pleasure – but again, she only allowed him to extort the virtue from her.

"Pray!" He threw his head back and groaned, "Pray for your soul, Eve!"

Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes – but she did what he said anyway, for she had _promised._ She gagged and choked around him, and her prayers were nothing but retched sounds of sin.

Eve tried to swallow numerously, but her throat only tightened in a pleasurable way, and when spit was beginning to drool around her pretty lips, she attempted to suck the saliva back into her mouth – making Kylo Ren call out her pseudonym.

Her toes curled at the sound, and suddenly, she forgot what she was even doing anymore – for she just wanted to hear him say it again, and again, like a broken record player. Eve shivered in delight and hollowed her cheeks around him, while Kylo only continued to thrust deeper into her throat.

He seemed so happy. _Fucking_ delighted to be _fucking_ her mouth, despite the fact that Eve wasn't even sure what she was doing at all. She moved her trembling hands to rest upon his toned thighs, but he only spat at her to interlock them again and continue praying around the girth in her mouth.

Guiltily, she felt like she was on cloud nine with all the praise he gave her, while she tried to do her own. She was as obedient as a _bitch –_ and although, she should hate noticing that it's almost like she's the one cuffed and vulnerable, the way his victims were as he hunted them down and laid out his traps – there's a certain thrill being born in the trenches of her unadulterated vitality. Never has she felt so alive, and it's all because of the way he finds the sickest fulfilment out of _her._

He likes her, and he wants Eve because he knows that he can dominate her, always – but the best part of it was, she wasn't dirty like the other girl's, she was precious and worth the fight – and he adored the way that his angel, was slowly shedding her feathers and learning the ways of the true world, in which he had tried to _enlighten_ many about.

The Sister could taste the desperation and passion just as she could sense it overflowing off his sweaty and dirty skin. After a while, her jaw eventually slacked around his length and she became more limp with her movements, as her nails dug into her knuckles.

When his legs began to shake, she knew that a release was finally building. He anchored his hands back into the material of her veil, pulling it further to reveal more of her wispy hair. She dared to look back up at the writhing, insane man, as she gagged around him again – she hated to admit it... but God, Kylo Ren looked enthralling in this way, where the darkness completely rivals the whiteness of his tone.

They're both _fucked_ up. Plain and simple.

The shackled and caged man, had complete control – but when the tightness in his abdomen became painful to withhold, he let go of it all and wailed her name again. She choked on his seed, wincing at the burn of it sliding slowly down her throat, probably on its way to poison her faithless heart.

When he finally pulled out of her mouth, all that could be heard was their ragged breaths, as their eyes only fought for dominance in the middle of the dark cell. Never breaking the tension, he pulls his jumpsuit back around his waist, and tied it with the limp sleeves – and before standing back up, Kylo Ren smirks slowly, and suddenly, he sinks further to the floor.

His shackled hands click as he moved them to cup her face, "You did so well," He praised her again, a fiery glimmer in the browns of his eyes. The conflict that once burned like fire had faded away to an icy numbness. Fog blurred the edges of Eve's vision, but Kylo Ren was the gravity of her hooded gaze.

A blush rose upon the flesh of her cheeks, compensating for the loss of colour from hardly breathing for the past couple of passionate minutes. He nods at the way her lips slightly twinge upwards, the taste of him still sitting upon her craving tongue.

"I think you deserve a reward," Kylo whispered, the scar upon his face twitching painfully as he did so, but he didn't even flinch, _"Don't you?"_


	9. EIGHT

She didn't even get the chance to respond before his hands had already moved to her thighs and slowly started to spread them apart.

Her head is pounding, but perhaps that's just the effect of her delirious heart. She can't believe this is happening, that she's actually opening her kneeled legs to a murderous and psychotic man, who practically worshipped the Devil – but _here_ she is, letting the Devil's servant run his hands over her cherished, untouched thighs.

The patient stared at the Sister with a look of pure, venomous malignity, for he knew just what he had destroyed comfortably in her. Eve didn't like feeling this way towards him, the burning constancy in which her salacious devotion had strung her around the golden ring in the darkness of his eyes.

His taste was still sitting upon her tongue, and sinking between her teeth – he was deliciously sweet for such a brutal, unhinged man, and that was the scariest part of it all... the fact that she was enjoying _every_ deranged moment between them.

Eve lets out a slow controlled breath and attempted to loosen her body as she felt the fabric of her uniform, bundle just at the top of her thighs, sending an icy chill to her exposed flesh and causing a swarm of bumps to litter all over her. The Sister no longer had any defences to hide behind – but now that she was left kneeling in her own rubble, there was no doubt anymore that she would let Kylo do anything he wanted to her in this moment, for the spirit in the sky must be crossing her name off the entrance list to Heaven, right now. 

Eve lets Kylo even delicately pull off her rosary, dipping her head down to make it easier for him to slide the beads across her lips and then over her veil – the necklace clinks against the metal of his cuffs, causing her to slightly flinch as she watches the cross upon the rosary, somehow find light in the murk and glimmer before her eyes.

Proud of his handiwork, Kylo curled his fingers over the beads and looked back to his Eve. She looked utterly terrified, he could see it in her eyes even in the shadows of the abandoned cell. Her body was trembling, and there was even a shine of tears layering upon the colours of her eyes – one even slipping down the crimson softness of her cheek. Kylo Ren wiped it away with his thumb, smirking as she closed her eyes and turned her head away from him. But he gripped her chin and yanked back to face his evil stare.

Kylo Ren smirked down at her, his fingers still continuing to teasingly pull the black material up the skin of her kneeling legs, as his lips were hovering just over her ear. "You should know, angel... that the more you fight my darkness, the more it turns me on." He whispered huskily, causing her body to involuntary shiver below him in a torturous concoction of both malaise, and delirium. 

He leans in slowly and begins kissing her cheek tenderly. Her knees were still pressed into the floor, the splotches of bruises, fighting the land of her skin against the army of goosebumps. He trailed his overly large hand from her neck, all the way down to her chest – to which her ribs caved in beneath his mere touch as if her heart was trying to get as far away from his murderous fingers, before his claws dig into its beat and intoxicate it with a cruel form of obsession, or addiction.

As he palmed her clothed-left breast, Eve sucked a brittle breath into her chest and pushed herself closer to him. The panic hit her again because she was following a path of sexual liberation, which was considered one of the worst sins for a woman in her faith – but still, the panic had no power over the desire that was settling into her bones and drugging her veins as if she was a limp, vulnerable patient and Kylo Ren was her subdue.

She only unraveled herself while the real inmate just watched in delight. Kylo then took both of her breasts in his large hands and squeezed them together, brushing his thumbs across the fabric to feel her nipples beneath, to which he licks his lips at the shapes that moulded in his rough, undeserving grip. He let out a wicked chuckle when they started to harden almost instantly under his touch.

Eve's eyes were still clenched firmly shut, avoiding the satisfied look upon the porcelain of Kylo's face, but she could feel little sparks of pleasure shooting through her body, especially straight down between her legs – just like that very night when she did something unspeakable to herself, whilst only thinking of _him._

Eve could already hear the hints of his incoming sly taunts, as his hands went back to the parting of her kneeled thighs and as her eyes slowly peaked open, to watch the way his gaze flicked down, a traitorous heat flushed her face, and made even her interlocked fingers and pressed palms, layer with a slight sweat.

Nuns and Sisters were never forced to wear a _uniform,_ beneath their _uniform_ – but that didn't mean that Eve had ever bought undergarments, expecting that someone would shamefully see them.

Kylo pressed his palms down on her legs as he swallowed back a loud groan, "White panties? I should've known," He rasped, his voice turning back to an alluring sense of internalised danger, as if he was always fighting against himself to not steal her innocence and to hold that title forever. Though, he never got burnt by the morality of her chaste skin, and that only made him believe that it was because _she_ was made for _him._

His eyes hovered above her own, with a shrewd brilliance that served to either attract or intimidate, although they dilated completely at the sight of the red apple's upon her cheeks – _Oh, Eve._

The silence the air came to was a frozen poison to the small space around them, for in that void of sound, the shallowness of their lust was laid out and exposed. Kylo furrows his brows and his jaw tenses as his left fingers begin to scrape their way up Eve's thigh – the chains of his shackles, burning her skin like frostbite.

He leans in again, but dodges her warm, trembling lips and instead, burrows into the crook of her veiled neck. Unsure of what is to come as her insides tighten at the way he slips his fingers into the band of her underwear, now there is only one desire, one wish, and they both know it's just a matter of time before something unholy happens. After he moves back to the Sister's mouth with delicate touches of his cold lips, her hands start to cramp in the tight interlocking, but she knows that he would only force her to press her palms back together, if she let go.

Eve's insides _craved_ Kylo's touch. Her whole soul _needed_ his touch. In this very moment beneath him, she had undoubtedly lost all rational thoughts, her life-source depended on the very way he began to push her legs wider apart, and eventually, teased her finest delicates.

It was a strange feeling, to be touched by another hand in which wasn't her own. Eve cried out and bucked into the patient, but he shushed her again by forcing his lips against her gaping mouth.

Kylo bit her bottom lip and his dangerously long fingers slid through her folds, to seek out the bundle of nerves, which had hardwired themselves to only electrify at the proximity of him. Once he found it, he coaxed it along so her body would self-lubricate, to which she stiffened at her own body's betrayal, but her devoted soul was the one driving her vessel now.

He positioned himself between the kneeling opening of her legs, adoring her shaking reactions, all while she flinch as he stimulated that foreign part of her now, unholy body. He pressed his clothed body against her knees, his bulge pressing up against her intimately.

Kylo couldn't stop the menacing, big grin from forming on his face when he finally felt her body start to loosen to his will – and as he dragged a finger down and up, he gathered more of her passionate givings, and spread it around, giving her a little more attention before he directed his blunt finger to her opening.

Eve's eyes immediately widened, and before she could even protest, Kylo roughly shoved his index finger into her. She screamed, her hands unclasping and curling around his broad shoulders for support during the breaking intrusion. He was yet to move, but she struggled around him, which only made the uncomfortable feeling worse. The pain rippled through her lower region, and tears spilled down her heated cheeks.

There was no fighting threat within her to tell him to stop when he sinisterly licked his bottom lip again, and began to press his finger further into her core, feeling her immediately tighten, and then loosen around him. "You're going to be mine, Eve." Kylo Ren whispered into her ear, tasting her tears with his cruel tongue, "... Only mine. Yes?"

Another finger joined his other, and her head fell onto his shoulder too, as he began to move them slowly into her, "Y-Yes," She shuddered and agreed, her voice slightly muffled by his chest, but he heard it as much as he felt her words vibrate through him, and _within_ her.

He was met with some resistance, but he didn't allow for her body not to take him. His fingers battered her insides, hitting spots she didn't even know existed. Which was both painful and pleasurable, to her horror and shame.

The young, but no longer innocent Sister, whimpered – she was starting to lose her mind as his movements were so dangerously addictive, and began to feel less painful, but more enjoyable. She hated herself for the way he was making her feel. He was making her enjoy it, and he was enjoying every second of it, too. Her body and mind was slowly giving in, and her faith... well, that's no longer adorned within the hopeful glimmer upon the cross strung to her rosary.

The two dexterous fingers inside of her, curled and wriggled around, until they found that sweet spot he had been looking for. Making her gush even more and more. As Kylo rubbed Eve's sensitive area and moved in and out, she began to feel something building in her core and intimately thought that she might explode from the sudden pressure.

Rocking on his digits, she makes incoherent sounds, which to Kylo are like whispers from beautiful angels, but to her own ears, sound like the cries of a traitor – _but she just can't stop herself._

Her body convulses and her breathing becomes even more rapid. The Sister tightened around the two fingers inside her, and she had never endured something so sinfully cherished. It was as if her pureness fit with his degeneracy perfectly like a missing puzzle-piece would complete the blankness of an entire universe.

Dots begin to bleed into the shadows of her vision, illuminating her surroundings like fireworks as she clung onto Kylo Ren, who was the spark to the sticks of dynamite – but then suddenly, his other hand pried her off him, and wrapped around her neck.

In one deep, savage thirst, Kylo grunted, threw his head back and made deep animal-like sounds as she tried to suck air into her caving lungs, whilst still riding upon his fingers. Her red face was slowly turning blue, the apples of her cheeks, paling as if the fruit was decaying to his ice-like roughness.

The girl looked into his eyes, tears rolling down her cheeks, but he only continued to watch the way she fought between life and the pleasure he was leeching out of her, as if it was his new life-source.

Eve made Kylo feel alive inside. Like he was drinking some forbidden elixir of life.

The Sister's lungs felt bruised and the darkness was clouding over her vision again – all while, the pressure was building and tightening in her abdomen warmly, and when she eventually, limply climaxes from his fingers, the rhapsody was so beautiful – she crazily mistook the euphoria for a glimpse of the Heavens.

As her eyes roll to the back of her head, Kylo Ren could tell that the girl's body giving itself up to the black veil of death. The last thing the dying girl was aware of in life was the sensation that her body was filled with something warm, which only melted down the touch of his cold fingers.

She was so enchanting in this defenceless state. Patient 727 could have ridden the waves of ecstasy into whatever place she was seeing behind the hooded gaze of her delirium, but he knew that wherever she goes – light will always follow, leaving him to be nothing but her shadow.

He let go of her neck, and pulled out of her core swiftly – and just as the light returned to her widened eyes and she heaved a large breath into her chest, she fell backwards. Eve's heart thundered in her chest, but silenced the very second he pounced over her curled frame – his chains pressing back against her neck, but not cutting off the airways as he lays his hands beside her temples.

The Sister couldn't tell if she was feeling weak from the strangling, or the intense climax she had just endured – but as she gazed back up to Kylo Ren, who's breath was fanning upon her face as their noses brushed... she knew all too well, that he was trying to show her that he always held the power above her head.

She is staring into those blown, brown eyes with a defiant look. Kylo Ren pushed his face closer, and all at once, she knew retreat would be a disaster, for it would bestow her weakness as a path for him to surge through and scramble her mind – _but hadn't he done that already?_

He smirks, taunting Eve as if he had her life grasped in his large and rough hands – which ultimately, he did. But no matter how much he dangled her life in front of the Sister's eyes, she now believed that she would meet her death by the punishment of her sins, and not by the man who provoked them.

Silence hung in the air like the suspended moment before a falling glass shatters on the ground, and its shards gnawed at Eve's electrified, but still nervous insides. The air between the two was like a gaping void, needing to be filled with sounds, words, anything... to which the inmate soon did.

"We're not done yet," He whispered.

The Sister's chest suddenly felt as if a red, hot coal was burning right through it. Her loins were in tired shatters and her brain was being shredded from the inside. Confusion was evident upon her face, and she winced as his chains only pressed further into her neck.

"W-What?" She stuttered, hoping that he wasn't asking her to do anything further with him now – for she simply did not have the energy, and wouldn't even know how to begin – though, the Lord is definitely not ever listening to her inner prayers anymore.

There's an unreadable look in his eyes and his lips almost quiver just as much as his Eve's did. She feels like the darkened room is spinning and she can't control her own thoughts as she takes a peek at those rosy lips once more, her soul still pleading to press her own against them, despite the exhausted weight compacting around every bone in her body.

Slowly, Kylo moves his face closer with those eyes that look so deeply upon her. His breathing becomes softer and more contained, the pensive look melting into something Eve can't quite understand... but he wasn't supposed to be coherent, for his mind was a massive jumbling of insanity.

She heard him roughly swallow before he spoke again, "Who do you belong to?"

Eve felt his finger prod back at her entrance, and her lips tugged downwards.

They stared at each other in an odd way, as if it were a silent argument. The Sister furrows her brows and tries to press herself further into the stone ground that she laid upon – but there was no escaping the magnetic pull coming from Kylo Ren.

"Y-You," She whispered, but her voice sounded unsure.

His touch was still cold upon her warmth... but as she hesitantly bucked further to his fingers, she found them to be colder than usual. The sensation kept her on edge, all her tired senses on high alert.

The muscle beneath his eye twitched, and Kylo Ren scowled, "Lies." He seethed.

And then suddenly, Kylo Ren forcefully shoved his fingers back into her core... the silver cross upon her rosary, cutting and digging into her insides as he embedded the symbol of her Lord, into the purest part of her body, which he had now coaxed into opening to the dark.

Eve screamed into his scarred face and her legs wrapped around his waist as she tried to fight against the feeling of beads being threaded into her core – the last six balls, hanging loosely out of her entrance.

Kylo smirked at the disgruntled state he put her in, and then leaned in once to kiss her temple. There was nothing but ice now inside her, and she matched the hollowness of her soul's devotee, perfectly – despite the pain he just inflicted.

And like a drug addict, who initially winces at the sharp jab of pain that their needle gives... Eve only moaned when the pain faded away, and her high kicked in, sending her to the cloudy light of a hysterical Heaven, _once again._

Kylo Ren was fuelled by animalistic indulgence. He doesn't care if she is comfortable or not. It's all about his own satisfaction... and the newly _fucked_ up part within her, will always force Eve to give him everything she had.

"Don't forget about your little God," He muttered against her veil, burrowing his face into the silky softness, and trying to smell the locks of hair beneath it as he only continued.

"After all –" Eve listened to his next words in a groggy state of mind as the Heavens of her high, slunk back behind Kylo Ren, but gave him a haloed illusion as he tilted his head to the side and smiled, "... There's still a crucifix of faith _inside_ you."


	10. NINE

Kylo Ren watches with an adoring stare of fascination when his little Eve, moans as she becomes accustomed to the feeling of a foreign object of pious beads, which he had laced so delicately into her warm core. 

She's a sight to behold – a _true_ angel in the trappings of a demon, who never knew how to caress wings of glory, without plucking the feathers from the marble saints. The young Sister leans further into him, as if she is trying to feel the beads of her rosary string up into her, deeper and deeper. Kylo Ren's desires for the angel, are sinful beyond comprehension but he is only satisfied on the taste of her own lust. 

The pair are deep into the darkness of an abandoned cell, one much similar to the one in which Kylo Ren will rot away in until the day he dies. The room was bitterly cold, but their hallowed breaths of moans and whimpers, was keeping their craving skin warm. 

Eve was living in a dream, though the feeling of him so close and his fingers still trickling around her core as the end of the rosary still hangs from her opening, is delightful beyond a dreams enchantment – leaving her to believe that she has been casted into the shadows of her nightmares, where Kylo Ren is the monster of the darkness but his smothering void was what kept her temptations smug. 

Kylo Ren licks his abused lips as he uses his other hand to palm his hardened length, even though he could practically feel the heat of her mouth still around him, from only moments ago. His brown eyes never leave her quivering chin, and curses of malediction are uttered beneath his trembling breath as she finds such joy out of such a godless act. 

"My sweet Eve," He purred as he leaned into her closer, smashing his wet lips against her chin and biting away the shake, only to then kiss at her pout. Blood is soon to slowly draw from where his canine had cut just below her jaw, but she doesn't pay it any mind as she becomes nothing but bound to his clemency.

Though, the moment blood traps upon his tongue... he is reminded of the sinful taste of his true mercilessness and embodiment of evil – and his sin of greed, only wants more. 

Kylo Ren is drunken on power, he's faulted to the vengeance of the Devil. She may have lost her grasp on the light, but there is no escaping the touch of the Devil and darkness. 

His nails drag down across the fragile skin which embraces the cold beads inside her warmth. Patient 727 then nips her bottom lip between his teeth, and blood soon wells up to the surface as she cries into his mouth and tries to pull away at the sense of a sharp sting, but he doesn't let his angel go. 

Kylo keeps his mouth pressed to her lips, and trails his silver tongue all over the sweetness of her metallic taste, which causes him to moan in reverence at the tang of his own personal brand of narcotic. 

His breaths come in pants as he continues to stroke himself, and keep his other hand scratching at her with a slight warning of the pain to come. Eve begins to stiffen with the sudden change in touch, and soon enough the coldness returns to her body as she realises that no longer does Kylo Ren moan for her, but he moans at the way she writhes and whimpers in pain.

A thin rope of spit still connects their lips as he breaks the kiss, blood glistening on his mouth as he watches the way her face is no longer red with the tint of elation, but rather her eyes are wide with apprehension of the way his hand is slowly beginning to pull upon the ends of the rosary – stringing it around his index-finger in the same way a snake would wrap itself around its prey. 

Young Eve opens her inviting, bloodied mouth to speak, only to shudder out a breath of cold clouds when she feels him tug at the rosary, and the silver of the cross digs slightly along her insides – it seems that she found pleasure in the initial insertion of the necklace, but never did she consider how the pointed edges of the centre piece, would get out.

"Kylo..." She whimpers, her voice coming off soft and timid again as he no longer meets her eyes, but stares idly at the flesh of her exposed thighs.

He tugs it again, a ball loops out of her and the cross scrapes against her walls slowly. Eve winces and tears begin to prick at the corners of her worried eyes. 

"W-What are you doing?" The Sister asks with a pleading tone, praying once again with guilt upon her tainted heart, that there is nothing damaging to come – despite the destruction she has made of her rubbled faith. 

Kylo Ren looked back to her eyes, passion swimming in his dark orbs, and dancing with the gleam of something dangerous – something, _wicked._

He moaned at the terrified expression upon her beautiful face, and leaned back in. He snarls into the rough kiss, all teeth this time, even as she tries to fight the snap of his bites upon her lips. It only serves to earn a chuckle from the patient, as he found humour from her struggle against his ultimate power.

Eve's hands press against the toned muscles of his chest, but all she pushes against is the stone of his beating heart – which pumps the toxic blood of degeneracy through his veins.

And just when she finally manages to pull away from his mouth to heave in a large breath of air and spit out a splatter of her own blood – the handsome, but insane patient narrows his dark eyes, and all at once, with a rough and aggressive clutch... he snaps the rosary out of her, tearing her walls like one would shred paper.

The pain is wretched, burning, unfamiliar and bestowed by the touch of the Devil. Eve's eyes shot wide open and as the wicked scream scratched up her tightened throat, she could swear that she saw lightning strike in the dark space of the abandoned cell – just as Satan had fallen from the clouds of the heavens with a bolt cracking onto the surface of his exiled grounds. 

Blood sinks out of her, and paints the colour of her legs red. Her broken but loud wail echoes all around the darkness, and through the halls of White-Ivy. 

The sounds of her suffering and agony, was only a purgatory bliss to his decremented morality. The sound of a woman's cry was like music to his ears, a vibration in his dancing bones. He never intended to hurt his angel, but like all demons, he cannot waver away from the darkness because the light of her prestige is what burns him and leaves his natural nature, hungry for the true sweetness of cruelty in which he yearns for, _always._

Eve's face was crumpled in torture as she clawed away his hand, and threw the rosary against the distant wall before holding her shaking fingers to her exposed core, to only feel the juices of her veins and vitality, slither around her digits.

She cries and tries to move, but the sharpness in her core feels as if Kylo Ren had forced her to swallow glass, and every-time she flinches, the cracks and pointed edges only sink further into her abdomen. 

"Look at me," Kylo Ren growled at her, when she turned her face to the side and began to sob with fear and hurt. 

The Sister deserved this. It was almost as if the Lord had possessed the vessel of the demon, only to punish the Sister for ever following the path of Satan, and allowing his servant to find pleasure in vandalising her virtue. She hated herself, and yet... she never found a fibre in her being, to blame the one in which caused her so much exertion.

Salty and icy tears leaked endlessly out of her eyes, which once filled with hope – and her vision turned glassy and glazed as he gripped onto her bleeding chin and forced her to face his wrath. 

His hands were overly large and his fingers were roughly eating into the softness of her cheeks. Breathing in her sweetness, which only mixed with the scent of agony, his mouth watered and he once again drank from her unresponsive, tightly pressed, lips – she quaked with fear and her heart was thrashing more violently than any chandelier could rattle in the midst of a city tremor. 

Eve's cries only urged him to continue, no matter how much her hands endlessly tried to pry him off her timid frame. It's a drastic and quick change in pace, tension, and emotion – she didn't want this, the Sister is not finding pleasure in this pain, she's only feelingthe pain and she wants to be free from it... _and him._

He pulled away to regain breath, blood all across his porcelain face. She took no time to cry against his sinful body, "Let me go!" 

The patient only roughly grabbed back onto her knees, feeling the army of bumps beneath his fingers as he shoved her thighs back apart, leaving her to scream once again in return.

"I won't ever let you go," He snapped, his voice rough with passion and causing her to pause from her cracking sobs as he moves his hand to the top of her veil, playing with the few strands which escaped from beneath it. 

The Sister shivers beneath his now soft touch, which is starkly compared to the twist in her bleeding core. Her eyes caught his, and her retracted gaze was wet with raw trepidation, all while his was elated with the need of possession and total domination.

Eve stirred every flood of his wavering spirit – but he was a flame of a man. She boiled his blood with the way she had fuelled him to the point of burning desire... and yet, she was ice to his undeserving blaze.

Kylo Ren shook his head at her, and a muscle beneath his silver under-eyes, tensed around the scarring of the cut across his cheek. 

Her beating heart was begging for freedom, but the pair of their beats had already been caged in the same prison, the moment she accepted to follow him to a place of seclusion. 

Patient 727's breathing was becoming erratic, and his cock was pressing hard against his pants, needing attention despite the terror of her situation. Eve's frightened eyes flicked only once down to the tent in his uniform, as the sweat glazed over the pale skin of his arms that held her down. 

She tore her glassy eyes back away, the moment a smirk rose upon his face, and she only glared back into his evil eyes. This was _all_ her own doing, she should have resisted the temptations of the Devil, and realised that nothing _good_ could come from a _bad_ man.

His smirk only twisted into a wide smile, "Not even the hooded vail of death could take you away from me now, Eve."

And just when the whip of consternation and strike of perturbation, tear through her flesh and sink into the deepest depths of Eve's heart at the barbarism of his words... a loud and thundering crack echoes through the room, and the light shines right upon them, blinding her with delinquency. 

Initially, she presumes that her shock had fabricated the slaying of lightning again, making her break down into insanity – but the moment when Kylo abruptly turns his head to the light, it doesn't take much longer for him to collect her shoulders into his arms, pin her back to his chest and stand. 

The patient's long, dark hair fell around his face as his ribs rose and sunk quickly against the bones of her spine. The pain was torturous, almost acting as a blindfold to the bright light that was fallen upon them, and when she tries to wail again, she finds her airways are slightly crushed beneath Kylo's arm that is tightly pressed around her neck – his other hand settled upon the side of her temple, as if he is prepared to make one quick motion and snap her neck as two figures make themselves known in the darkness of _his_ den.

Eve's eyes shot wide open, staring into the white void until the figures closed in, as she gasped for breaths of air – her fingers begin scratching at Kylo Ren's muscular arm. 

A black hole seems to expand in her chest, and it bares the incredible weights of all her sins. The rooms seems to be catching fire with the fuel of the suspenseful tension, and yet she's utterly chilled and frozen to the bone. 

The Sister's tainted heart tries to leap out of her choked throat, which minimal air slinks through, but still leaves enough settled upon her tongue – turning her face slightly blue. 

A voice rang out, loud and filled with authority and pride. It rang in her ears with an ominous repeat, but the familiarity of the tone was unexpected as was the figure who came into focus, with his fiery red hair and harsh stare. 

"Patient 727, let her go," Father Hux called out to Kylo Ren, who was smothering the life out of his little angel – her wings were sure to lose feathers and bruise with the claws of his demonic tendencies, buried deep into her pure quills of paragon.

Kylo Ren buries his nose into her temple, smelling through the thick material of her veil and faintly catching the delightful scent of her hair beneath it. 

The hopeless and frail Sister's haggard heaves of oxygen, sang and sunk in the air. Her silent cries are louder in her own ears as the pain and fear become more unavoidable and defenceless. Only a few minutes ago, she would have screamed at the idea of Father Hux catching Kylo Ren and her in this cell, but now she silently screams for mercy by his hand, and even the hand of Guard Roberts, who stands by his side with a cruel gaze set upon the insane patient's face above her head.

Kylo Ren ran his tongue along his teeth, savouring the taste of Eve's blood which had trapped into the corners of his canines and seeped into his gums, "I dare you to come in and try to take her from me..." He practically snarled at the two men. 

Guard Roberts almost shook with rage, and his neck was turning red, rising up and through his cheeks to cloud his vision. He takes a brisk step forwards, only for Kylo Ren to pull away and tighten his grip around the Sister's airways.

"727!" Roberts snaps, his voice rough and gravelling as it bounces off the stone walls. Both of his hands linger dangerously close to his baton and gun, which are both strapped on the sides of his thick leather belt.

His lip curls, his wrinkles forming around the furrowing of his thick brows, "Let go of the girl, or else we will have to use force!"

A horrid sensation seeped torturously into the Sister's heart and mind, striking her tired bones with the need to save herself from this situation as suddenly, Kylo only scoffed at the guard's warning. 

"Force?! I spit on your authority and God." He shouted, eyes narrowed and lips twisted, "I am not a number, I am a man of my own power... and I won't let no servant of darkness or light, tell _me_ what to do."

Eve's stomach was spinning, just as much as the whole world was also twirling chaotically around her groggy vision. The tears are running down her bloodied cheeks, and her lungs are now scorching more violently than the searing pain in her core could ever burn.

She uses one of her last breaths to whisper his name against the skin of his arm, "K-Kylo..."

 _But he doesn't listen to her pleading call –_ in-fact, nobody does... because in one fragile second, Guard Roberts loses his patience and grasps onto the gun in his holster and cocks it in the air, pointing it at the patient's face, but also precariously close to the Sister's forehead. 

Kylo Ren sniffles a breath of laughter, his lips rising into a sarcastic and coy smirk. "A gun... really?" He raised a brow, facing the face of an enemy with a mask of defiance, "Go on then, pull the trigger, _Roberts."_

The gleaming and reflective, silver barrel was aimed directly at them, and Eve's eyes locked right on the pudgy finger which was gingerly bent around the trigger. She squeezes her eyes tightly closed as chaotic stars begin to fog the barrel – tears fall down her cheeks and sink onto her lips, covering the reminder of Kylo Ren's yearning adulation.

The patient takes a step closer, only shuffling the girl in his arms along with him, closer to the end of the gun.

"Shoot me." He begs.

Eve's lungs began to rattle and shrink. Her eyes tried rolling to the back of her head, but she forced her dilated pupils to focus back on reality. Death was certain to come – perhaps, this was the punishment for her enjoyable sins, before they turned lethal.

Every muscle in her body becomes tight as they sprung, ready to uselessly protect her organs incase a bullet is ricochet upon her. Her anxiety grows into a hurricane of thoughts, and prayers... but her pleads for mercy and invocation of the Lord, are no longer worthy.

The guard's finger presses idly at the trigger, but not enough for the barrel to fire. Sweat drops in tantalising slow forms down his temples, and his eyes have lost that stern stability, faltering into a gleam of agitation and unease. 

Father Hux still stands tall beside him, his hands gripping onto his pectoral cross. "Roberts..." He drawls, his tone on the edge between a warning to retreat, and a notion to shoot. 

Kylo Ren takes another step forward, and this time with his movement, his arm loosens around the Sister's neck, giving her enough time to gasp a large heave of breath into her dying lungs, before he cuts her life-source back off again. 

"Shoot me!" He screamed.

Eve tried to whisper his name again. 

Guard Roberts flinched.

Father Hux shouted. 

_"Shoot him!"_

The click of the trigger will forever haunt her in the afterlife, and the loud crack in the air of the barrel firing will only become the reminder of why the hooded veil of death, truely did come to take her away from Kylo Ren. 

She presses herself further into Kylo's chest, but he doesn't even move, nor close his eyes and brace for impact... _for the impact never comes._

The whistle of the propelling bullet never funnels through the air, and nothing but smoke clouds the end of the pistol. The smell of dry and burnt dust, smothers Eve's senses with misery, but once the void of death never comes, she merely opens her eyes with perplexity. 

The barrel of the gun, _like always,_ was empty. Guard Roberts, the raging man who had pulled the trigger upon the request of Father Hux, curses. 

Kylo Ren's smile grows, as the sound of more guard's feet are tapping against the hallway, sprinting to the sound of a gun's blow, with their batons ready and handcuffs prepared to detain the monster.

The Devil chuckled low to himself as he slowly and causally, released the trembling, suffocating Sister from his tight and menacing grip.

His hands slide all along her stiff figure, down to her waist and just before he pushes Eve to the Priest, he wrapped his thick and long fingers around the dips of her perfect hips, holding her against him for a suspended moment – to which, she could feel his hard length through his pants, pressing against the small of her back, through her garments. 

Father Hux catches her before she falls to her feet, barely able to lift her own weight as her bones turn flaccid with the pain in her abdomen – blood dries upon the skin of her inner thighs, but the crimson is hidden by her long skirt of black. 

"Come with me," The ginger priest mutters softly into her ear, his hands curling around her shoulders and pushing her against him in attempts to levitate the shift of her weight. 

Kylo Ren doesn't fight against the guards, he simply allows them to shackle him once again with no protests – but he still carries that damned smirk upon his face, as he is dragged out of the cell... his eyes never leaving the beauty of his damaged, Eve.

The Sister had no time to even reflect on what had just happened – her mind was jumbled beyond the extend of reprisal, and her body was only focusing on the mixture of pain and necessity to suck cold breaths into the fire that raged in her chest. 

She cries into the priest's shoulder, and just when Father Hux begins to lead her out of the darkened cell, in which she had allowed Kylo Ren to give her the touches of both lustful pleasure, and then hostile pain in – the ginger man's boot stands on a crush of beads.

He stops in his place, his fingers tingling with the proximity of the young girl in his grip, but just before he takes her away to his office, he takes his time to lean her against his hip as he reaches his long and slender arm to the cold ground, to retrieve her rosary – which is _strangely,_ covered in blood... as is the rest of her.

He swallows roughly and a sour taste fills his mouth, as all the vindictive corruption in his morality, gnarls together in a swarm of his secret animosity.

He passes the weakened and sobbing Sister her rosary, to which her trembling fingers wrap around it with the fear of the cross scorching through her skin.

Father Hux tenses his jaw and his icy eyes flick all across her face, inspecting her in a way that he had done without her noticing, many of times. 

"You better hold onto this..." Father Hux utters to young Eve, "It looks like you're going to need it, _Sister."_


	11. TEN

The Sister had tried her whole life to blind her conscience from the rupture of her conflict – though as she sits upon the plush chair which was tucked on the other-side of a mahogany table, the blood has been cleaned from her skin but crimson is still the reminder of her sins as it traps beneath her nails. 

Kylo Ren had lead her into the dark, and her battle towards the light had only failed miserably. Eve had almost allowed the patient to claw into her, and torture her vessel much harsher than he could ever torment her worship. 

The grief of her choices washes over her in harsh waves of repentance and remorse. Patches of pain were littered across her broken skin, but amongst the roaring pain, the shame of putting herself in a situation so dangerous, was a subdue for the burn in-between her legs. It was only moments ago, she had washed the blood off her hands and the beads of her rosary, but as she twines the chain around her shaking fist, she still feels _dirty._

The grot and grime of her breach of faith, is thicker than crimson on flesh – it is tattooed and etched into her bones. Eve could hear the church bells chiming in a sad tune of loss even in the ticking clock upon the desk, and in every beat from her heart which pounds so treacherously in her ears.

Father Hux isn't sitting in the overly large chair on the other-side of the desk, but instead he furrows his brows as he rests his arm upon the marble mantle above the small fireplace to the side of the room. 

Dying embers of ash are spurting above the burning flames, and upon the grace of the holy blaze, he finds that morality has the same oath of pride as an inferno of nature – and the dying embers which clutter in the air and sweep into ash, is the surrender of depravity, with its dirty impurity of what it once was.

Too many thoughts are whirring around his mind, but the soft breaths coming from the young Sister behind him, is what gravitates his body to clarity, as he sighs low and turns. 

She's so fragile, just like the little angels which line his window, that are made of porcelain – and Patient 727 had tried to smash her into tiny pieces, and step upon her virtue. Father Hux scowls at the memory of catching Kylo Ren with his arms around the Sister's neck, _just in time._

But she still had cracks in her ceramic china, the Father could see the tiny little splits and fractures every-time he seems to imagine the shape of her body without the thick drapes and veil of her creed. 

_Oh,_ how he desired to purge every profane chip of wickedness from the girl, for he doesn't want the angel of glass, to crush in the hands of a devil. 

Her innocence is his own. Father Hux wasn't a perfect man either, but at least he kept the darkness beneath his eyes hidden from the light of the world. His job was to exorcise demons from the tangled minds of weaklings – and to satisfy the peace of the world, it is only given that the man who the Lord has given the duty of reconcile, becomes a vessel which forever holds onto to undisclosed violence, which he had plucked from the void of sinner's hearts.

The Sister had quickly become an aspect of Hux's morning prayers. He hoped that she could persevere the wrath of the dark, and that she knew that he was always there to guide her back to the light. He prayed every night that God would keep her safe from Satan. 

He curls around the edge of his own desk and Eve drags her eyes along the tall stature of his body. Unorthodox eyes of ice, are sinking back into the wide orbs of her own, but in a split second, he breaks the tension as he opens the drawer to the desk. 

Hux pulls out a small object first, but he is quick to slide it into the hidden pocket in his attire before Eve could make out what it is – and then, he reaches his long fingers back into the draw, and strangely retrieves a glass and a bottle of brown whiskey. 

The Sister furrows her brows as the Father pours the alcohol into his glass, and then purses his thin lips around the rim – Many devotes completely abstain from consuming any alcohol, since they believe the scripture declares it to be sinful, despite the fact that Jesus himself, drank wine and created it from water. 

Eve never believed alcohol was evil in itself, though she hadn't dared to let the toxic sink upon her tongue, in the way Hux let it wash his tastebuds now. It is one of God's _good_ gifts that can be, _and often is,_ abused – and that was why she found it so discourteous to catch the stern Father, chugging it gently before curling back behind her and placing his long fingers upon her drawn shoulders.

The Sister raises her head to the intricate patterns upon the glass of his now-empty cup, in which he had left on the table directly in-front of her. Her eyes still sting and her sight is blurry from the amount of tears in which had nearly washed away the colour of her vision. She's trembling, but she doesn't know if that is because she is still jittery with fear from Kylo Ren, or nervous around the grim demeanour of her patriarch.

A heavy and suffocating slice of silence is settled into the tension-filled air, and as she feels the heat from his pale fingers sink through her clothes, she swallows down the lump in her throat loudly – but to her gratitude, Father Hux doesn't hear her sounds of apprehension, for he begins to softly pray breath his bellowed breath. 

His thin fingers twined around her collarbones through the fabric of her clothes and as the pale priest's eyes fluttered closed, all the darkness brought, was a blank slate for his cruel imagination to create fabrications of what those shiny collarbones beneath his grip, could really look like. He paused for a moment when he felt her bones shake – _was she scared of him?_

He smirked softly to himself, hoping that his Lord turns a blind eye to his slip of darkness – again.

The prayer continued falling from thin lips, voice raw and steady as it carried barely above a whisper, but loud enough for the young Sister to hear it, and shudder with every mention of the spirit in the sky. 

The tang of whisky is still upon his sly tongue, but that wasn't the cause for the stir in Father Hux's divinity. He was almost losing control just with every shiver beneath his hands, which he wanted to run along the softness of her hidden skin – but he remained impassive and stern with every hushed whisper of prayer, until it was finally finished. 

His hands still stay upon her shoulders when Eve hesitates in the silence, and then makes a hurried sign of the cross with her trembling fingers.

Father Hux's face was beyond pale, almost whiter than the complexion of Kylo Ren – who hadn't seen the light of day since he had been captured after the murder of his very last victim. It wasn't a sickly pale, but it was close to ghastly as there was no compensation from the fiery tinge of his hair, which he slicked back everyday. 

His expression was held darkly by arched eyebrows that were always raised above the bleached blues of his eyes, and what held those icy orbs was a set of high cheekbones which carved into the thin structure of his face. 

Father Hux was a man made by the mould of God, and yet as Eve lifts her eyes to the window across the desk to look at the Priest's illuminated reflection, those eyes which are exotically watching her right back, seem to be plucked from the same bag of buttons in which Kylo Ren got his chilling stare from. 

Father Hux smiles in the window, and then drops his eyes to the top of Eve's veiled head.

"You're shaking," He says, his fingers tightening around her shoulders. 

Eve's got a heart of glass, but a mind of stone. Her conscience may be fragile and broken in the shattering caused by cruel hands, but her spirit lives in the mind which is always searching for ways to survive the wrath of religion and its hectic emptiness and repercussions.

Her stomach twisted with unease as Hux spoke those words so casually with his hands upon her, but there was no denying that the churn of her guts was nothing compared to the ache in her core, where a cut of the cross has become a mirage for her transgress, and abomination to the light.

Truth will never be solely told – but indeed, there was something _off_ about Father Hux, which kept the Sister on edge. It wasn't as if the ginger man, who wore a pectoral cross around his neck instead of a line of numbers, was _as_ intimidating as Patient 727 – but there was still that same glimmer in his eyes, which she had recognised from Kylo Ren's... _could it just be a coincidence, or was there an undertone to that pale face of devout?_

The young Sister shook her head gently and smiled up to his reflection in the window, but he was no longer staring back, "I'm just a little startled from... what happened." She said coarsely, then shifting her gaze to the outside light, instead of focusing on the way his thin lips rose up at the sound of her hushed voice. 

The winds were howling against the pane of stained glass, and the trees which surrounded White-Ivy were thrashing dangerously in the chill. The weather looked as frigid as the tension between the two in the office, and as Eve stares intently out the window, she can even notice the white flakes of soft snow, beginning to settle upon the ground.

Suddenly, Hux's hands slid off her frame and moved back to the empty glass on the table, leaving her as cold as the white blanket outside, "I don't blame you," The Father furrows his brows with a shake of the head, as he refills his glass with another shot of bitter whiskey.

Now leaning against the right edge of his own desk, he whirrs the brown liquid in his crystal glass in the way which a storm would brew in the dark expanse of the skies. 

Eve swallows softly, feeling the same burn in her throat as the sting which glides down the priest's as he sips from his drink. 

Father Hux's eyes turn back to her and he finishes his last sentence with a coy tone, "– That psychopath forced you into a cell with him, and then tried to kill you."

Eve was speechless. All she could think about was the barrel of Guard Roberts' gun and the sound of Father Hux giving the order to fire. She should be more displeased of the chances of her life being decayed by a silver bullet, more so than the fact that it was intended for Kylo Ren's forehead instead – but there was something in her heart, which beat a different tune at the echoed sound of the empty load blasting, for the man who announced the shot never thought it was an empty barrel in the first place.

When she didn't utter a single word of reply. She worried that her silence may be a sign of apostasy, which her Father could read upon the stiffness of her face, and the dull shine of her strung rosary. There's no possible way in which he could know about the conflict in which Kylo Ren previously brought to her, but with the Lord's whisper, the ginger man may be able to put pin-points together and notice the way her light is diminishing.

Eve can't let that happen... Kylo Ren was cruel and vicious, she should never have put herself in such a treacherous situation with nothing but a prayer that the evil patient could bring her something to compensate the feelings she had for his alluring nature.

 _And yes,_ Kylo Ren brought the most amount of pleasure she had ever endured, only to ruin it when he sickly inflicted harm as a reminder of the darkness within his soul.

"Y-Yes, but I suppose I am lucky that Guard Roberts never keeps his gun loaded..." Her voice was soft and sincere, but her intentions were anything but as she raise a brow of concern, "For it seems that I could have died by his weapon, rather than Patient 727's grip."

Father Hux's heart stammers upon hearing her timid, but otherwise, conniving, words – there was a sly meaning behind her gratitude, which the priest noted was a referral to his disregard when Guard Roberts pointed a deadly gun in the direction of both her life, and the patient's who choked her.

She looked so conflicted, so sorrowful – he recalls the day in which he had first laid his harsh eyes upon her innocence, and was totally captured like an angel in the light. He remembers the way her skin glowed with the determination to make her mark in the path of enlightenment, and there was a glimmer in her eyes as she showed interest in his teachings, devoted to becoming stronger for her Lord, and Hux's respect... and that very light vanished the very second Kylo Ren walked into the room – what that man was doing to her, Hux couldn't really tell, but the patient must be scaring the heavens out of her, instead of hell. 

His fingertips trailed the white centrepiece of his collar, and his soul burned at the way her wide eyes dropped to it. His breath caught and he was holding back. The Priest's eyes lingered on her lips, trying to find the right words to say to either hold himself back or try to convince himself that she was as in need, as the patients who lived in the manor. 

Kylo Ren had done something to her – and although Hux didn't quite know what it was, the preacher was never a man who could subdue his jealousy... for if it was anyone that should be tainting the young Sister with hands of sacrilege, it should only be Hux, who would try to _heal_ her with his clash of light at the same time.

And healing is a process which the Father has become master of bestowing. Healing is a conception of repentance in the eye of his Lord, and though punishment is often treachery by the hand of devil's, the Father's hands are an ailment to the soul of gratitude. Penance does not mean punishment, but healing from suffering is like a salutary remedy. 

Father Hux smirks, his glass once again empty, "Hm. Pity that he couldn't have shot the _bastard_ down, though," He muttered, swaying his head from left to right, almost as if he was covertly mocking her. 

A sharp breath of air captures in the middle of her dry throat, and upon hearing the preacher curse, it feels like a block of cement has been dropped onto her chest – what Kylo Ren had done to her, had damaged her beyond the inflictions upon her skin, but although her morality was lost in the shadows of the patient, her humanity was still strong.

She was here to help the patients, and so was Father Hux. Why would he say something so brutal and savage, if his life had become the duty of care for the sick minded? 

Eve shook her head, not quite understanding anything that had happened in the last couple of hours. Surely, this whole day had to be some sort of horrific dream or nightmare... but it wasn't, the pain was too real to be fabricated. 

"I-I'm sorry, Father?" She asked. 

Father Hux narrowed his eyes, and at the same time, a log of wood cracked loudly from the fireplace, causing the Sister to flinch in her seat – her hands now curling around the plush sides by her thighs after she lifts the rosary to her head and puts it around her neck.

"Patient 727 will be punished for what he has done to you, but I must apologise in the light of the Lord when I say that my desires in that very moment, was to give up the mercy of my duty and have Kylo Ren put down..." The priest said as he placed his empty glass onto the table and tilted his head at the Sister, who almost had a slight layer of perspiration upon her skin, from all this time having to act as if she didn't have dried blood smeared on the insides of her legs – but the track marks of old tears were completely on show, along her cheeks.

 _Put down,_ like a dog – she almost wants to add. Her body became littered by an army of goosebumps. Father Hux was not the man in which she had previously assumed him to be, he was more snake-like... more calculating and disturbing behind his mask of devotion. 

To her dismay, Father Hux only continues but only when he slides slowly further down the edge of the table and is now sitting right before her, "But – when that gun only clicked with an empty load, it was the Lord's way of telling both you and I, that we cannot give up on that man's blackened soul. That I shouldn't think in such a cruel way."

A pregnant pause followed. Eve's eyes widened. 

Everything seemed dulled, mundane, and insufficient in the matter of seconds. No longer did the Sister think about the ache in her core, for there was nothing that filled that hollow of what was left of her darkened soul. Fright captured in the bliss of her apprehension... perhaps, everyone lost a part of themselves once they walked through the gates of White-Ivy, and maybe the madness is truely infectious?

The man before her, then seized her chin with his cold hand and slightly bends down so his icy eyes are staring directly into the misty gaze of her tired orbs. The silver crosses which dangle from both their necks, swing in the air between them and as she gasps onto his face, he only fans his hot words upon her's.

"Sweet child..." Father Hux coos, "It isn't fair that the Lord has given you the harsh duty of looking after such a demon of a man. I will be certain to pray _for_ you."

His hands are warmer upon her skin, rather than her clothed shoulders – but it is the icy chill of his gaze, which burns every inch of her skin as if he was giving her frostbite. Her heart is beating as fast as it was when Kylo Ren had looked at her in this same way, from the time spent in the darkened cell. 

The priest's stern face is somewhere between the narrowing intensity of madness, and complete purity. He's on the verge of authority, and insanity – the clash between darkness and light, Eve can see it in the minor dilation of his pupils upon the sight of her frightened expression. 

The young Sister wanted nothing more than to flee. She wants to leave White-Ivy behind, forget about Father Hux and hopefully Kylo Ren too – but she's stuck here, with nowhere else to go and even if Hux gave her the advantage of letting her chin go, she still presumes that she would be glued to her chair just by the way his smirk slowly drops into something much more undeserving. 

Confused and horrified, the Sister merely tried to flick her eyes away from his face, but he was too close to lose sight of as she whispers, "Thank you, Father."

His hand finally lets her go, only to grasp onto her rosary – which had previously been somewhere in which he could have never even imagined. Eve's cheeks flushed into a beautiful and erotic shade of scarlet. 

All the tiny hairs on the back of Hux's neck stood up at the sight of her blush. He curls his fist around the silver cross of his Lord. 

"When was the last time you went to the confessional?" He asked Eve, the Sister who he slowly grew an undeniable infatuation for. 

She was unlike anything he had ever witnessed. Holy, but broken all the same – and it was his purpose to fix those who are cracked, and he will only ensure _his_ porcelain angel is fixed with the bond of enlightenment, before he ever sits her upon his sacred mantle of paramour.

Eve's lips trembled – anxiety tingling in her fingertips and along her tongue. 

"Not since arriving here..." She uttered, knitting her brows together, "– Is there something I must confess?"

Flashes of every sin in which she had easily committed ever since arriving to White-Ivy, flashed before her wide eyes, and _shockingly,_ they were all because of one inmate. 

She could only pray that Father Hux would never figure out that she had strayed from the light, but she knows that the Lord would no longer listen to anything that comes from her wrecked soul.

All at once, and very much to her horror – in the span of one brittle heartbeat, Father Hux's face twisted and his eyes turned dark. Pulling her close by the chain of her rosary, his expression was curled into the horrific change of vexation and his long fingers were dangerously twining around the silver cross. 

Though his eyes could possibly be turning red – Hux's face was still pale. His chin was pointed and his jawline was so tense, that the curve of his neck was sharp and prominent beyond a pointed edge of glass. 

Lungs breathing fast and heartbeat pounding even quicker, the Sister's whole body went back into the state it crumpled into, when Kylo Ren tore the rosary from her entrance with a brutal force. 

Hux glared at her, his eyes as cold as the storm that brewed behind them. "I think you already know the answer to your own question." He snapped, then throwing the cross back into her chest and scoffing cruelly, "Don't treat me as a fool, I know what you did."

 _He knows, he knows!_ The mind of Eve is sent into a spiral and all of her surroundings seem to sink into a void, as the pale face of her superior is almost growling, inches away from her own. 

The Sister's breaths come in gasps and she feels she will soon black out because her weak heart is hammering inside her chest like it belongs to a rabbit running for its worthless life.

It doesn't take long before _somehow_ more tears are pooling in her eyes, and then hotly running down her face. Her conviction is utterly terrified. She's choking on her own guttural sobs and blindly facing the wrath of apostle. 

"Bless me, Father... for I have sinned!" Eve cries, her hands now clawing upon the fabric of his thighs, practically begging for forgiveness. 

Father Hux almost bucks into her fingers.

Her adrenaline is trying so hard to make everything slow to something that her brain and body can cope with, but the ultimate fright is what keeps Eve sobbing like a small child. 

The priest hummed beneath his breath, returning his long fingers to her chin and lifting her gaze to his, "Did you commit this grave sin on the behalf of your own free will?"

Her chin wavered and jittered in his touch and when the Father used his other hand to wipe away the salty tears which ruined the softness of her cheeks, she only let him. 

The Sister's sovereignty was crushed and aching in the harassing touch which Kylo Ren had wrecked havoc upon the tendrils of her already weekend devotion, and now that the priest has presumably figured out the mess of her tangled divinity and breach of faith, she frets that she will be treated the same as those touched by the devil. 

"Y-Yes, Father Hux." She stuttered. 

"Do you believe that you deserve to be punished for your act?" The priest questioned coyly, eyebrows raised. 

A shiver ran down her spine. The preacher was looming over her veiled frame, speaking to her with a sharp snarl, loathing glistening in his glowing, blue eyes. 

Eve's already damaged heart, merely thinned at the sight of him, her morality crippled beyond words as her fingers clawed at his legs to keep her body upright as the tears endlessly dropped onto his drapes. 

She parted her quivering lips to answer, "I–"

Father Hux cut her off.

"Give me your hand, child."

Her hands dropped from his thighs and she immediately held them against her pounding chest as Hux reached for one of them. 

"Father–"

He screamed, "Your hand!"

Eve's body was shaking so much from trepidation, the Father almost felt a pang of guilt as she sobbed and let him grab onto her left wrist – but he merely straightened his spine, and only pulled it closer to him. 

She looked once again to his face and the dark notion of anger which was present in his perpetual scowl and harsh glare. No longer was her biggest foe the mask of Kylo Ren, but now whatever monster Father Hux was as he nearly lunged at her when his other hand slid into that hidden pocket in his drapes from earlier, and she flinched as she saw him pull out the tiny silver lighter. 

"Stay still!" He roared, spit flicking onto her face as he seethed and rolled the material of her sleeve, further up her arm. 

The smoke and the flames take the attention as the fireplace still flickers in the background, but as the priest flicks the ignition of the lighter backwards, once, twice and then for the third time – a small, wavering flame is alight before their very eyes. The tiny speck of fire has no culture, no pity, no mind, yet it consumes the chill of the air completely – making even the goosebumps upon Eve's skin, cower away.

Father Hux then uses his other hand to turn her wrist around, her blue-corded veins pumping blood and curling prominently in the thin flesh that traps it above her bone and muscle, which Father Hux has his long, pale fingers tightly wrapped around. Young Eve's eyes reflected the burning flame of orange and yellow, giving a godly sight of reverence to the priest who bestowed the heat to her gaze, and then moved it closer to her hand. 

Tendrils of smoke reached desperately towards the ceiling of his office as if trying to escape the small blaze, but as Hux pricks the flame upon the flesh of Eve's wrist, the only thing that smoulders is her decaying skin. 

Father Hux raised the flame of his lighter to the Sister's wrist as if she was the end to a cigarette, keeping it there and watching the way her flesh turns red and melts. 

Inhuman screeches and cries came from the office, and rang all throughout the halls of White-Ivy, sounding such more crazed than any hallowed scream in which the patients of the manor could make, as they scraped their fingernails into the inescapable walls of white madness.

She tries to thrash her arm out of Hux's grip – but it was no use. The more she moved, the more areas the tiny flame met with its heated curse. 

Her skin recoils as the heat wrinkles around the tip of the fire. Eve cries and sobs, the pain is unbearable and there is no mercy from the Lord, who seemed to have ensured that she would most definitely pay for what she had done. 

Father Hux only watches with motionless eyes and brings the flame in again. This time he holds it onto her wrist until a black wisp of smoke curls upwards, eddying in the air like the perfect strokes from an artist's paintbrush. His face cracks into a sly grin.

The stench of her own burnt flesh was pervading the fall of wintery snow, which crashed against the window behind Father Hux's stature. 

Her stomach is swirling faster than any axis and the gravity is pulling it into her throat. Black dots are beginning to spot Eve's vision, and she's starting to lose consciousness as the scorching agony upon her wrist, becomes too intolerable. There's sweat beads falling down the sides of her temples and even slipping along the cloth of her veil.

Only when Hux notices the slow roll of her eyes, as her whimpers and screams become groggy and slurred – is when he finally clicks the lighter off, and throws it upon the mahogany of his table. 

"I can only pray that this will become a retribution and burn as a reminder, to not steal and give contraband to the patients..." Father Hux spat onto the Sister as she fell off her chair, grasping onto the burnt flesh of her wrist as she kneeled before the priest. 

He shook his head upon the fragile state of the cowered and utterly cracked, porcelain angel, "– No matter how enticing or intimidating, _one_ might be."


	12. ELEVEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the late update, i tend to forget to post on ao3!  
> let me know what you think :)

With hands of prayers, a constellation of burns are raw and on show upon the thin flesh of the young Sister's left wrist. Knees bent and spine hunched, her intertwined fingers are cold but the injury is still as hot as it felt when her patriarch held the tip of a flicking flame to her.

It had been three days since that day – and although the reminder of her punishment for only giving Kylo Ren a lighter, is starting to scab over and elude from its oily shine of affliction, it still hurts. Everywhere in poor Eve, hurts. The Sister had tried with the best of efforts to avoid both Kylo Ren, and Father Hux with all her might – and with the time of not facing her soul's adversaries growing over days, there is only a ticking time-bomb of anxiety, springing in her stomach.

Patient 727 was supposedly thrown into solitary confinement after what had happened three days ago, which made it much easier to avoid him, as she chose to only slide his tray beneath the slot of his door and scuttle off before _his_ voice drew her any closer – but it was much harder to flee around corners, whenever she caught eye of the fiery hair and stern glare of Father Hux.

None of her brittle spirits were as good as healing as was the skin of her vessel and the subdued sting between her legs. She had no bandages to cover the burn of her wrist, but she did have her uniform of black – which seemed to hide every other thing about her, but not the way her eyes were slightly glazed and her mouth was not moving in the subtle whispering of the other Sister's invocations, as they kneel before the cross of the small chapel.

The sanctuary was much smaller than the one she had grown up in, back at the monastery – but the touch of the Lord was still ever-present in the large stained glass windows and gothic carvings of sad angels, which spiral across the ceiling with their outspread wings of pure white, innocence. Pillars line the back walls, and the aisles of seating are empty in their dozens.

With a numb body and a solemn face, Eve looked up from her hands and around the small church. Snow had avenged the warmth of White-Ivy, and danced in the light of the day in a choreographed ballet conducted by the cold winds – throwing the flakes of adorned individuality, against the kaleidoscopic intricacies upon the arched windows.

There was only two other girls beside her, kneeling at the opening of the alters, where the carpet is the same colour as the stain of blood in which she can still remember upon the flesh of her thighs.

She stared at Jesus on the cross. The other day was still freshly scarred in the trappings of her mind, and there was no escaping the ill-feeling she got every-time she recalled how much violence had been bestowed in only a matter of hours, from both the darkness, and the light.

No longer did Eve feel safe, she felt on edge and timid of others finding out that she no longer trusted the head of the sanctuary and also the spirit in the sky. The Sister wasn't certain if it was White-Ivy which was bleeding its madness into every soul, or in-fact, some in the light are truely struggling with the darkness... _just like she is._

Questions swirled her mind, instead of prayers: Was the punishment upon her wrist, really worth the agony for it was bestowed by the Holy Spirit? Or was Father Hux just as deranged as his patients, and adored the way she writhed with torture scorching through her veins?

She had tried begging the Lord for forgiveness and enlightenment, but as always... she never got an answer. The Sister didn't know if it was because her Lord had turned His back to her after what she had done with Kylo Ren, or because He never listened to her hushed conformities in the first place.

The room was cold, almost giving into the chill of the snow. Her drapes coiled around her kneeling frame, and were tucked around her ankles almost in a way to confine her. 

Sleep was no longer her escape from the harsh reality of her devotion – for the darkness behind her eyes, only reminded her of the shadows which now followed her wherever she went. There were silver rings beneath her eyes, and every-time she blinked or tried to close them behind her intertwined fingers, her thoughts would swirl between the cruel colours of Kylo Ren, and the merciless hue of Father Hux's stare.

She sucked in a breath and tears welled in her tired eyes. The doors to the sanctuary opened with a soft click – she was the only one to turn around and meet the sight of Darlot, walking down the aisle towards the three girls, choosing to kneel beside Eve – who was the only one that remained silent in her imitated devout.

Darlot only nodded to timid Eve once, before turning her eyes to her now interlocked fingers, her pale and dry lips then muttering the words in which are tattooed upon her heart of faith.

Eve furrowed her brows and bit hard upon her tongue as she turned her eyes back to the cross – why she couldn't just be Darlot, was beyond dishonourable.

She was a perfect person, inside and out. There were no scars or welts of sin upon her soft skin, nor was there a sense of shame or disgrace, in the tint of scarlet upon the apple's of her sharp cheeks. Eve doubted that the girl had ever even come across conflict, nor had she struggled with the equity of her faith.

Darot was the kind of Sister, who would become only the best of Nuns. She was not a clash between light and dark, she was a radiance in herself. She was good – virtuous and kind. An unblemished and pure child of her gracious Lord.

 _And Eve..._ she was broken beyond repair. She was merely a lost child of glass, who surrounds the shattering of her splintered credence.

The pair sat inches apart, but Eve felt as if there was already a line between them – separating them into sides of eternal damnation, and the holy heavens. Only when the other two girls finally finished both of their morning oaths, did Darlot cut off her hushed prayers and turn her eyes to Eve and said,

"Father Hux has given me the word to pass onto you, that you will be assisting Patient 727 in returning to his usual schedule today."

Eve's knuckles turned white, and her lips began to tremble – but never did her eyes leave the wood of the cross that was strung high above them.

She gulped, "Patient 727 has completed his time in solitary?" Eve whispered as a bundle of fear and anxiety, began to tie a knot around her already twisted heart.

"Yes," Darlot hummed, "– He also mentioned that it would be a good time to bring him to the patient's sanctuary... so he can be enlightened by the Lord's light after so much time spent in the _dark."_

Eve had to fight the urge to roll her eyes, "Father Hux told you to tell me all that?"

Her eyes slowly flickered to Darlot, who eyed the burn on Eve's wrist, before the younger Sister caught the gaze and quickly pulled her sleeve further up her hand – covering the wicked, and bizarre wound. The other Sister nodded.

Eve gave Darlot a small smile, to make up for the worried expression upon the older, and more experience Sister – who had never seen something so ravaged upon the salubrity of her fellow, faithful cronies.

The world feels as if it is slowly chipping away, Eve doesn't want to face Kylo Ren – especially if he is just coming out of solitary, where the insane can only use the quiet of their seclusion to further cultivate the madness in their wrangled mind. Suddenly torn, despite the fact that the Sister knew it was only time before she sees him again, she can't help the way her heartbeat quickens and her spine stiffens as a shiver runs along the bones.

And just before Darlot can see through the mask that Eve now ties above the cracked stability of her demeanour and strength, she breathes a breath of fake contentment and asks the other Sister, "Did Father Hux tell you what time I should take Patient 727 to the communal chapel?"

 _Turns out,_ Father Hux did give Darlot a time – and with only an hour passing, Eve was now sitting beside Kylo Ren, _in total silence._

The public sanctuary, which was supposed to be used by the patients, could not even compare in the _slightest_ to the merit of the chapel in which she was only kneeling in, moments before.

It was more bland and lacked dynamism. The kneeling rows were not rows at all but instead, the seating was only plastic chairs that were randomly placed around the alter, which was nothing but a hardwood floor, with a cross that was bolted to the wall, between two windows that were spared from the intricate patterns of biblical spirits and only adorned by silver bars – which kept the patients inside, but some snowflakes had managed to slither through a crack in the glass, and settle upon the mantle.

The floors, were not covered in a plush carpet of scarlet, it is flattened and tastelessly decorated with neat, crippled tiles of black and white – and although everything in the small space of spirit, seemed clean and sanitised, Eve's nose twitched at the putrid stench which smelt on the verge of decay and dust.

The Sister took a leisurely glimpse towards the clock which softly ticked in the corner of the room, begging the hands to move faster, for the silence between them was almost suffocating. They walked here with nothing but the sounds of their own feet echoing behind them, and when the guard told Eve that he would be waiting outside, she muttered only one word of gratitude – despite the fact that this time, she wished someone with a weapon would actually stay by her side, whenever she was around Kylo Ren.

She's almost too nervous to breathe, for she doesn't want to give the man a reason to snap. He's so impossibly impassive and stiff that she fears that he is one tick of the clock away, from falling into the violence of his heartbeat and punishing her for perhaps being the reason he had nothing for his eyes to grasp onto, for three whole days.

The Sister needs to drink in the silence to counteract the fear that threatens to engulf her, and dries every inch of her mouth and throat. It doesn't help that the sky outside the two barred windows, are as plain as the rest of the room, for the white snow leaves nothing for her mind to focus onto, instead of the tall man, who sits so close to her. 

Reminders of what had happened between them, rest in the overly large hands of his that are shackled and curled around his knees. Just one look, and Eve blushes at the pale fingers, which had made her see stars of euphoria and then bursts of suffering not so shortly afterwards. She doesn't even find the nerve to turn her face to him, for she can't even comprehend what the red of his lips may remind her of.

Meanwhile, Kylo had purposely sat right beside his Eve, his knee brushing her's before she moves her bouncing leg away. He looked paler and the wretched cut upon his face was finally healing into a much thinner cut of silver and pink – he hadn't seen the light of day unless it was the inch that crept beneath his cell door, but now the illumination of the chapel is almost blinding. His eyes are heavy and his tastebuds lack flavour, he lets out a sigh of relief when the cold tincture of air flushes against his face for the first time in three days.

By some sort of miracle, Kylo Ren had made it through solitary confinement without bashing his own head into the walls – there were multiple grazes and bruises littering his white knuckles, but they were only the battle-scars that he can reminisce upon, now that he sits in his own personal purgatory.

The chains were fastened around his wrists, and no matter how many times he tries to break out of them – the silver cuffs only drain his strength and leave the skin beneath the metal, raw and red.

Three days spent in the boring, monotonous and even soul-crushing, solitary confinement, feels like three years – especially when the only thing that kept Kylo's mind from fabricating distant realities in the shadows was the very person in which brought the heavens to the burden of his soul. All he thought about constantly, was Eve... and now that she's so close to him, he cannot tell if she is really there, really real – or if his brain has finally succumbed to _true_ madness, and this is some divine hallucination.

Kylo Ren already had little possessions, but upon being moved to the further wards in the isolation sector of White-ivy, he was stripped from everything other than the lighter in which Eve had stole for him, his own chewable fingernails and a bible.

It was a snark detention summoned by Father Hux – and Kylo Ren only gave him a wide, toothy smile as the door was slammed shut, and the absence of light eloped him, for he wasn't going to give that man any satisfaction. The first couple of hours were passably and almost peaceful, for Kylo still had the smell of the Sister upon his fingers, and her perfume mixed with the last three cigarettes in his pocket, kept him living in an cube of pure halcyon... until the scent of her juices faded, and he had sucked dry all his tobacco... that was the very moment he had scoffed and used the flame of his lighter, to read the lines upon the bible.

Kylo Ren almost read the whole thing, _and still,_ he loathed every etch in the scribe. On the third day, his lighter was beginning to run out of gas, so he decided to save the rest of it, and instead spent the last of his time staring out the window, watching the birds flutter in beautiful dances amongst the blue of the sky – though the birds were nothing but the smears of his own blood, and the blue skies were the reality of the brick walls.

 _But now,_ he narrows his dark gaze upon the snowflakes with their intricate patterns, and how they floated weightlessly downward from the pure white sky above, outside the barred window of the patient's sanctuary – where if Eve wasn't actually sitting so warmly beside him, with nervous jitters and fearful eyes, he would still feel as isolated from the liberty of outside.

He turns his face to Eve, "The snow is settling upon the surface of our world, do you know what that means?" He asks in a rough, coarse voice – a voice in which no longer sounded familiar to himself, but almost intimate to the Sister's ears, for that deep sound was the tone in which her morality's, metaphorical hell-hounds, all howl to.

She immediately seems to shrink in her chair, the moment he speaks first to her – so coolly and unconcernedly, as if this wasn't the first time they had been around each-other since he had his arms wrapped around her neck, and the cut in the shape of a cross, bleeding from her warm core and dripping down her trembling legs.

The young Sister could hear her own pulse banging in her ears and there was a slight, cold sweat dripping down her back. She really wanted to return the soft smile in which he gave to her that she saw from the corners of her eyes, but her lips barely twitched.

She couldn't breathe, it felt as if he still had his strong, dangerous arms around her airways. Her heart was racing and all she wanted to do was curl up at the base of the hanging cross, but not even her Lord could save her from the man beside her – for Kylo Ren behaved and perceived the world, as if it candidly belonged to only _him._

Eve makes no effort to speak, so Kylo furrows his brows and answers anyway, " – It means that the heavens are bringing forth a blanket of white, so they can pick out those who carry degeneracy from the sins of humanity which will bleed into the blank slate."

He stated as if it was obvious, though it wasn't an omen in which he had read from the handbook that he had read over the last couple of days... it was just something that he felt in his heart, and unfeignedly, believed.

The Sister nearly chokes on her own spit.

Her cursed soul is buried beneath the thickness of sweet crimson, the same as snow covers the dirt. Eve can even vision it now behind the glass of her worried eyes, she had felt dirty and impure, ever since the very moment that Kylo Ren had ruined her morality and faith with his hands of adoring shadows, and during his time in solicitation, the Sister had almost stripped her skin from her own bones to try and wash away the mark he had left on her. She's painted red, blood and scarlet alike, and now she wonders as her heart pounds at the same tune of Kylo's, that perhaps there is no water sweet enough to clean her with the prosperity of the heavens anymore – so the blood of her decayed faith, lays crisp in the snow of her cold conscience.

Eve's lips begin to tremble, and Kylo doesn't miss it. She's terrified of the repercussions in the afterlife, for nobody is yet to notice the blood of her faith in the snow of her weaknesses – but if Kylo Ren is right, the Lord and his army of angels can perfectly look down upon the scarlet ink, _now._

Kylo Ren reads her as easily as he did with the hundreds of pages that were blinded into the hardcover of the bible, beneath a flickering and dying flame – the very light that Eve was brutally punished for giving to him, but Kylo didn't know that _yet._

He spoke a statement, rather than a question, "You're scared of me."

Eve snapped her face to him, almost swallowing her own tongue as her eyes narrowed and an expression of either denial or offence was struck upon her beautiful face. _Oh, how Kylo missed her and all her flaws, in the vessel of a perfect specimen._

Flashes of all the cruel things in which he had done to her, flicker like lightening behind the colour of her eyes, and she can almost see the strikes of savage bolts in the darkness of his own.

She finally gave him the reverence of her holy voice, which sounded like a harmonious melody of an angel's tune to him – despite the harsh meaning of her sharp and snark retort.

"Do you need me to give you a reason as to why?" She scoffed, shaking her head and knitting her brows together beneath the white stripe of her black veil.

The bite in her tone does something to him, and now that she's finally facing him, Kylo becomes struck on the glory of her features once again. It is almost as if he had forgotten the true evil attraction of her undeniable enchantment. Her skin looks softer than it had in his tossing dreams, and her lips are pinker than he remembered – but there's something different, something in which he knew was never there before... _but he only welcomes the arrival._

Her eyes are naughtier, they're a tint darker and in the reflection of her wide orbs, his reflection is in the very centre.

Kylo Ren watched himself smirk, "No – I can figure that out on my own."

Then, his arm reaches out towards her and his thumb only brushes upon the heat of her pink cheeks, before she pulls away with a quick turn. Hunger consumes Kylo Ren, like it had that day in the abandoned cell – but _for_ her, he tries to keep it tamed as he swallows down an animalistic growl.

Her heart quakes in her ribcage at the touch, which she can still feel burning into her fragile skin of metaphorical glass. The heat of his hands steals her breath, and sears what is left of her holy soul. She hates that she is so weak whenever she is around him, but it is his barbaric tendencies which keep her on edge around his ultimate power of coercing her.

When he moves his hand to her veil, she allows him to kneed the material between his fingers, some strands of her hair pulling and sending delightful shivers up the back of her neck

She bites the inside of her cheek, hard – before shaking her head again and uttering with a displeased tone, "You hurt me. _Granted,_ I should have never even given you the opportunity to put you hands upon me, but still – your touch became nothing but agony."

Eve turned back to Kylo – who was only the snake in her glorious garden, but she found herself constantly attracted to his sly words and bountiful propositions, as if he was the teacher to a wounded soul, who couldn't trust anyone, anymore.

He hummed. She felt it vibrate through her own _damned_ skin.

"You cannot keep dancing with the devil, and not expect to be immune from the lick of flames, for you are swinging in his home of hell." Kylo Ren said, as if he was a poet and she was his mystical muse, "I didn't wish to hurt you, _my_ Eve..."

 _God –_ Eve's so _fucked_ up, and so is Kylo Ren. It's not fair that no matter what he does, she can't help but feel a bubble of desire, loitering in her _damned_ stomach.

In an instant, all her apprehensions dwindled into a meaningless nothing, smouldering in the ash of her own sick morality – Kylo Ren had hands of flames, and he burned her with every lingering touch, but the heat always drew her sinful heart closer, like a moth who doesn't know any better as it flies towards the blazing sun.

Her wrist stings. She pulls nervously on her sleeve, feeling some of the cotton stick to the wound beneath it.

Eve felt like there was a hole in her heart, which she didn't know how to fill unless she was shovelling the bloodied snow of her dying virtue and burying the corpse of her rectitude into the cemetery of her soul – the same graveyard in which Kylo Ren lurked.

The Holy Sister who wore all her blacks of _purity_ and veils of concealment, visibly clenched her jaw in frustration.

A condemned killer – that's what all the newspapers called the man beside her. There was one in the foyer at the front entrance of White-Ivy, and Eve would be lying if she said that she hadn't read the front page yesterday morning, after taking an elderly patient for a stroll in the snow.

She can recall the way her whole body went hot, the second his picture caught her eye. Kylo Ren's mugshot was printed in a casual black and white, but his eyes still carried through the ink with that painful void of malevolent darkness. He used to be a mechanic, spent his time oiling and fixing the gears and engines of those fancy new cars which city-goers had, which would break down with the dust and dirt that clogged in the motors as they drove through his small town.

Many said he was always a distant and strange man. He worked hard, day and night – with no complaints of the black smudge that was almost _always_ tattooed upon his big hands... until the day he snapped, and supposedly killed a young woman, who knew little about cars and was on a long drive across state to reunite with her fiancé who survived the war _– but she never survived Kylo Ren._

And then, the small town mechanic must have realised that crimson is much prettier than soot upon his pale hands, and the taste of metallic is much more delectable when it is coming from a young woman, rather than a spurting engine of a man-made vehicle.

Eve could only imagine herself, without all these drapes of sovereignty and holy crosses upon her heart – living in a big-wide city and taking a long drive, to only become captured by the alluring man beside her... who had a taste for transgression and murder.

Would he be as compassionate as he seems to be, if she was one of his victims? Or would he forget about all this grace of leniency, and refuse to fight his malice as he had done in the abandoned cell, three days ago?

Eve turned her face back to the _condemned killer._ "But you did..." She whispered low, despite the fact that her heart was beating loud, "Just like you _hurt_ those innocent girls, who are now buried six feet under all _that_ snow."

Kylo's eyes slitted to ebony shards of fury, and all at once, he leaned forwards – his nose barely inches away from her own as he yells, "They weren't innocent, nobody is!" Kylo Ren snaps, growing tired of explaining his previous motives that brought him here.

Eve gulped, but there was no swallowing that cement lump in her throat of trepidation – for she knew first hand, that the insane patient was almost ready to chew her up and spit her bones back out. Kylo Ren's soul was nothing but black fury, though he saved a spot for her light to burn in his wickedness – she just didn't understand why, yet.

Her eyes flicked back to the window just as his searched her face – but Kylo's voice only struck her, and his shackled hands then reached out to pull her face back to face him, by his long fingers twining around the back of her veil, just feeling the width of her neck through it.

He wanted to snap it – but not break _her._

Kylo Ren shook his head slowly to her, his words soft and mellow which was a clash to the rejoice of iniquity within them.

"Even you struggle to be so perfectly savoured by the eye of your Lord, when really you may as well repent for the wander of your clouded mind. Nobody is good, Eve – most people are on the verge, but also on the edge of bad... not merely just for the trenchant language in which they speak, nor violent actions, but also for the appalling silence and indifference of those _good_ _people_ who will tell others to carry out the weight of their own sins, for them instead."

Eve felt her stomach drop like dirt into her boots. His hand slowly moved from her neck, to the buttons upon the collar of her dress – she only let him with wide eyes and a quivering bottom lip. _Was she really about to hand herself over to the devil, again?_

His words cause a swirl of emotions within her, and she thinks back to Father Hux, who although he relentlessly prayed, rejoiced and found enlightenment in his God – he only bestowed Eve with a bountiful suffering of torture.

 _Was nobody truely good in this world?_ She wondered, _was everyone struggling with the turn to the light, as was she, or was there in-fact... no light at all?_

Kylo unbuttoned the first clasp, the skin of her neck finally peaking out enough for him to watch the way she sucks a sharp breath into her lungs.

Eve's voice stutters and shakes, just as much as she is in the other-wise empty sanctuary – where the Lord is certainly watching over the doomed and exiled pair, through his porcelain eyes that loom upon the statue hanging on the cross.

"Y-You're insane, Kylo..." She said.

Patient 727 stared blankly at Eve, contemplating as he rolled the next button between his fingers. _His_ Eve may be tantalising with her dazzling glow, but _damn_ does she frustrate him – though the tension between them, only gives him a fever of delirious exhilaration. She's like a bashful rose, but her thorns are caught in his flesh. 

"Maybe, I am –" He tilted his head and smiled, "But aren't we all? Who is to tell humanity what is sanity, and what is _in_ sanity?"

Another button pops. Eve's hands were still wringing around her wrists, almost as bound as Patient 727, indeed was.

Kylo's eyes linger upon the base of her neck, he can almost see the way her heartbeat is pounding through every inch of her soft skin.

"I don't care if you're afraid of me." He continued in a soft mutter, pleasantly surprised that the guard had decided not to join them today in the sanctuary.

His dark and alluring eyes moved back to her's, he nodded once, "Your fright won't stop my devotion for you. I want to fill every part of you, breathe in the air from your lungs and leave my dirty handprints on the virtue of your yearning soul. I want to give you more pleasure than you can take, and then teach you the ways of liberty without a book to judge how your life is valued."

Damage was plain to see upon his face, and Eve shuddered at the idea of spending multiple days in complete darkness, alone. Kylo had a beautiful shine to the cut upon his face, and beneath his eyes was a deep mixture of purple and grey. 

The shackles of his cuffs, give her goosebumps as it glides along the skin of her neck. Her eyes move down to the silver metal, and then back to the silver beneath his eyes.

"You cannot show me what freedom is from behind bars and with bound hands." She whispers to him – but he knows just as clearly as she does, that there is no escaping each-other's true prison of desire. They're captured by the clash of light and dark. She's the gold in his dark caves, and he's the dark night to her bright stars.

As if Kylo has the powerful ability to read her thoughts, he gives her a leisured and sensual smirk – his velvet, pink tongue which will forever crave the taste of her blood, flicking to his bottom lip and returning back into his mouth.

"I can do anything so long as it is my heart which desires it, Eve." Kylo Ren mutters, his breath warmly fanning upon her cold face as he pops another button out of place, "– And so can you."

She whimpered – he cut her off by smashing his lips against her's, and swallowing down her sounds. Eve's lips were frozen and hard for a moment, but as soon as he gave her the warmth of his slick tongue, her kiss began to dance with Kylo's, with inexperience... but he didn't care in the slightest.

In one split second, he stops unbuttoning her drapes, and instead moves his fingers to her veil, and pulls. Her hair falls in soft waves upon her shoulders, coloured strands coiling like a waterfall around the skin of her neck.

Fingers are running along the shine of her left collarbone, and also curling around a lock of her hair. When they break away for air, Kylo gives the Sister a stare beneath his dark eyelashes. She doesn't move, nor refuse his touch but she still is admittedly afraid of the lustful glint in the dark pools of his eyes. His fingernails are blunt, but she can't help but apprehend a sharp feeling to replace his softness.

But pain never comes, even when their mouths meet again and he pulls her bottom lip between his ivory teeth. Patient 727 then reaches his bound hands to her shoulders and pulls her closer, while also leaning her down across the chair beside her own – her spine digging into the edge.

With a nudge between the fabric of her legs, Kylo Ren is now almost mounting her in the church hall. She can feel his hard length press against her inner thigh, seemingly forgetting about the size of him as she gasps at the strange feeling... but she cannot forget the slight pain still between her thighs. She pulls her mouth away from him, and his lips then brush her ear instead.

"Tell me what you want from me, Eve." He whispers, tracing the rose of her quivering bottom lip with his finger – eyes adoring the vulnerability in the exposure of her hair and shoulders.

The Sister's body went cold. She didn't know what she wanted, she didn't even know what she was doing – or why she was allowing herself to become tangled in this mess again. She's weak... but she's only debilitated for this demon in particular.

Eve didn't speak, so he pulled away and looked to the blemish of crimson cheeks. Her eyes were filled with unshed tears – and even though he cannot understand what keeps her suddenly so pure in this unsettlement, Kylo Ren only licks his lips, savouring her taste before smiling and moving his hands back to her buttons – lacing them back into place and covering her completely, when he rests the veil back over her mystical hair.

Her nerves were electrifying, almost more powerful than the bolts that had burnt the sides of the patients temples. Surprise was evident upon her features, for she had never expected someone supposedly so cruel, to simply refuse to acknowledge the discomfort between his legs, all for the discomfort between her own. Her face looked absolutely wrought with bittersweet relief, her eyes flicking across the freckles of Kylo Ren's pale, scarred face.

A deep sense of serenity overcame her as Eve glanced in complete rapture at the man. Reflections of those perfect rays of light which peaked through the snowy clouds out the window, danced delicately across his white skin, which matched the flakes of falling white.

The statue on the cross almost seemed to be glaring down at them – her stomach knotted around the flutter of butterflies.

She bites on the inside of her cheek, ignoring the burn upon her skin as she leans into Kylo Ren again, and presses her lips back against his, _softly._

Eve melted against her own personal snake, who coiled around the base of her beating heart. No longer does her mind think back to the Lord when she kisses the patient, for she has decided to devout her soul to Kylo Ren _– it seems._

Her fingers twined into the patient's long hair, and pulled – to which he only used his tongue to part her lips, and then devoured every breath of her soul, as he had promised to do.

In this very moment, only with him, is she worthy of escaping the snow-storm of swirling conflict and the endless analysis of all the sins in which she will be punished for in the afterlife. The young Sister is still anxious with the waver of trepidation, and she's still cautious of Kylo Ren's vulgar tendencies, but when he only gives her touches of reverie, she simply folds into him.

Kylo Ren moans into her mouth. His hands ran down the length of her arms, and then twined around the expanse of her wrists. She hisses between her teeth and pulls away, the scabbing burn upon her wrist, opening once again as she snaps it to her chest.

She wears a pained face, but when Kylo Ren inspects it, she moves out from beneath him and shoves her hands beneath her thighs – turning away from his furrowed brows and _now,_ harsh gaze.

"Eve," Kylo Ren said in a flat tone, eyes burning into the side of her tight jaw, "– Show me your hand."

Her mind was sent reeling back to sitting before Father Hux, as he asked for her hand to punish her for stealing a lighter and passing it over to the patient she now sits beside.

 _Again,_ she ignores him – trying to focus all her attention on her spinning surroundings, instead of Kylo, who was the only thing that sat impossibly still. The midday sun flooded through the frosted windows, shining around the wooden cross. The sanctuary had a foul smell to it, but _his_ was almost intoxicating.

Kylo Ren growled, and then, all of a sudden – he reached out and gave her no mercy when he grabbed onto her by the wrist. In one swift move, the patient ignored the way she cried out in agony, and pulled her hand in-front of his dark eyes – and when he found nothing on her palms, nor on the back of her hand... he pulled her sleeve up to the crook of her elbow, _forcibly._

The horrifying burn upon the flesh of _his Eve's_ wrist is red, painful, and oozing. The Sister watched him as he stared long at the wound, her fingers curling into her palm as his grip tightened just below the burn. 

He feels his own blood boil. Kylo's eyes meet Eve's, "Who did this to you?"

He cocked a questioning brow, but his tone was almost demanding.

She stuttered.

"I–"

Kylo thrashed her arm in his grip and screamed – it will only be a short while before the guard outside comes inside to inspect the cause for the shouting, if he happened to be doing his job properly and not just loitering the halls with a loose cigarette between his teeth, instead.

"Tell me!" Patient 727 roared.

Eve stared squarely into his eyes, not widening her own, nor narrowing them. She had to admit the darkness of his frustrated stare was ominous, but so captivating and beguile. The young Sister, with the red cheeks and a red wrist, could lose herself in the pool of Kylo's orbs – swim in them, until she drowned.

She inhaled deeply, not wanting to give him the truth, but what did it matter? He was as shackled to White-Ivy, as she was. There was no escaping the cruelty, even if they were sinners in the chapel of insanity, _too._

_"Father Hux."_

He knew it.

Kylo Ren squints, looking into the Sister's eyes as if he was searching for something in the colour, and then the rest of her face as if he was mapping it out in the back of his mind. She stares back and once again, Eve is stuck in a defiant gaze, though she struggles behind the flutter of eyelashes – fighting with herself on whether she should brake and blink, or let her eyes dry up so much they water.

Kylo lets go of her wrist, and she pulls it ever-so-slowly back to her chest – feeling nothing but the heat of his touch upon her bare wrist, rather than the burn of the wound.

He hums, turning his head back to the window – and now, they are back where they started. Side by side, glancing out the windows, where snow falls against the broken glass and bars.

"I suppose, it was him who dropped the first petal of blood into the blanket of snow," He says low, almost as if he was speaking only to himself – but then, he turns back to her, "It may not be bestowed by the touch of his God, but I promise you my angel, that Hux will pay for what he did to you."

A shiver ran down her spine. She shook her head, but didn't look back to him, for the lighter in his chest pocket almost taunted her.

"I-I deserved it," She stuttered.

His hand moved back to her chin, and the chains around his cuffed wrists cooled the heat of her skin.

"You're mine, yes?" He questioned, locking eyes once again.

Suddenly confused, Eve didn't know where he was heading with this. She paused, eyes moving to the lighter in his pocket and then back to his lips, "I don't belong to anyone..."

Kylo Ren shook his head, his raven hair breezing in the chill of the air, "No – but your heart is cowering into the shadows of my own, so that must mean you belong to _my_ darkness."

She parted her lips dryly. He only continued, eyebrows raised and tone almost _hopeful,_ "Eve, you're mine." He stated this time, rather than asked.

The Sister didn't even try to fight him, for she was undoubtedly mad, and gave into the darkness almost too willingly. She followed his shadows gladly, surrendering the sanity of her mind and the light of her faith, to the torrential flow of his own craze of malice. Every morning and night, she may have to pray for mercy upon the eventual arrival of death, for she is surely going straight to hell with him after this – but everyday spent in this _goddamned_ place, felt like hell anyway. The only time she ever felt some kind of relief, was the _good_ moments spent with the sinful man who believed she was his own personal, angel.

Eve nodded and caved, "Yes."

"Yes." He repeated, eyes now turning darker than ever before as his hands moved back to her's, and interlocked his fingers with her own, pulling out the fingernails in which had embedded themselves into her bleeding palms.

Kylo Ren's lips twisted, "– And nobody touches what is _mine."_

A low gasp rises up her chest, ricocheting into small bursts when her heart is struck by the force of his declaration. Her light has now sacrificed itself to the mercy of his gravitational void. Shadows are pulling her in, but it is his hand in which she clings onto.

The surroundings of the chapel are still seemingly bright with the soft illuminance of the falling snow – but suddenly, she can only see the white clouds, turn _red._

For if anything, Kylo Ren was a barbaric man, and he may be a condemned killer, but he wasn't a liar – and as he spoke those words with a lace of pure poison upon his silky tongue, a part of her knew even now, that he was _solemnly_ speaking nothing but the truth.


	13. TWELVE

_"Checkmate."_

Through the frost licked windows of White-Ivy, a crazed inmate and a conflicted, religious Sister, sit down in the empty dining hall – with a rosary around her neck, a cold plate of food no longer steaming upon a plate beside him, and a messy game of chess separating them both. 

The game had started off like usual. Eve had declined his offer to play, insisting with pleading eyes and a small voice, that she wasn't an opponent worthy enough and that it would just be a waste of what little time he has left before he is locked back into his tiny cage. 

_But –_ Eve could never say no to Kylo Ren more than once, especially when he would give her that stern stare and say something wildly profound, yet ultimately eloquent.

A vinyl is chaotically spinning and stuttering from the front of the hall. The needle constantly skips over the voices of the last decade's music – for if it wasn't gospel choirs singing, the rhythm and blues of the forties were _tamed_ compared to the jazz-pop of the roaring fifties. The Sister recognised a few tunes from the collection of songs which were lined upon two sides of the black vinyl – some of them she can faintly remember listening to in the back of her father's steel tucker car, which drove her everywhere... until it stopped outside the monastery and her childish legs never dangled off the leather seats, _ever again._

She's biting on her fingernail when Kylo Ren places his queen piece, right in line with her defenceless king. It takes the Sister a hesitated moment to realise her mouth has fallen in shock – until she tastes the tangy smoke hit her tastebuds, which eluded off the burning end of Kylo Ren's lit cigarette. 

The patient smirks, and taps the end of his falling ash upon the edge of the table. 

Eve shuts her pretty mouth as quickly as she can, suddenly feeling embarrassed but Kylo doesn't seem to spare her from another round of humiliation, for he loves the way her cheeks turn ravishingly pink – matching her lips wondrously. 

The Sister sighs, defeated once again _– for the fourth time today._ "This isn't fair," She huffs, knocking her king piece down herself, eyes then flicking up to his, "I told you I wasn't good at chess, and you won't even give me the benefit of a chance."

Kylo Ren watches the young woman with a brightness to his dark eyes that Eve has come to know as amusement, and it suddenly strikes her that maybe the sadistic patient enjoys always having the upper hand – and treacherously, the thought only makes her smile. Patient 727 is frightening, but the shiver his eyes cause to run down her spine, only awakens her soul as if it was resurrecting on a graceful Sunday morning.

She isn't sure what she feels in this moment, not exactly. It's a mixture of emotions, a terrorising thrash between trepidation and attraction. Eve looks stricken, as if she's still expecting the worst to happen – but beneath the surface, she feels intoxicated. _Granted,_ she had never even sipped wine before, but the captivating way in which the inmate has trapped her close to him, feels the same as liquor would cloud a sober mind.

The petals of the girl's internal wallflower, are falling off its reliant stem which once grew with prosperity in the light of her now dying faith – all because of the gloom in which she adores before her. Kylo Ren was a shady man, a man who frightened her to the bones, but for the first time in forever... Eve feels alive, and as if she is far more than a pretty flower upon the wallpaper of a dreary world. 

Kylo blinks once, his long, dark eyelashes falling upon the porcelain tint of his attractive face of scars and angles, before bringing his cigarette, _a newer and richer brand in which he had swiped from the back pocket of a janitor,_ back to his lips and speaking against the end, before sinking it between his teeth. 

"Never in my whole life, have I played fair –" He chimes, then sucking the smoke into his chest and blowing it right back out, onto her angelic face. He recalls the way her hair flowed upon her shoulders, and he can only imagine the way she would look with the vapour slinking through the strands, giving the inspiration for a fallen angel, who now stands in the flames of sin. 

After a long silence, Kylo continues with his cigarette limply held between two of his large fingers, ash splintering upon the chessboard between them.

"You can't win a game of chess with the cautious moves you play, Eve." He raised his brows and smirked, as he pointed his white stick to _her_ side of white pieces, "To really win, you must remove the strongest individual away from the mastering of its own bonds –"

Perplexed, she furrows her brows. Eve blinks slow, compulsively looking back down to the chessboard, where her white pieces had tried to form around her king piece with safe moves – but Kylo's moves were much more chaotic, and ultimately knocked every pawn, knight, rook and bishop, just to get to the queen and king players behind them. 

Kylo Ren almost wants to throw his smoking dart to the floor and begin palming himself, when she sucks her bottom lip between her front ivory teeth. He shakes his head and clears his throat, "– For the vacuous pieces around them, are acting as a defence against the powerful with an army that only protects, rather than attacks..." 

_Suddenly,_ Eve doesn't think that he's only speaking about the game between them – but perhaps, the game they now play together in the hide and seek halls of White-Ivy, where insanity lingers.

" – Sometimes, you must strip from the safety net and place yourself right in an enemy's eye, to really shake their mind and brain so that the inner freedom of the true king-piece, no longer suffers with silence."

Even the playing vinyl spurts at his words, only to then skip songs and begin playing a Christmas melody, which sings of falling snow – much like the white blanket outside the frostbitten windows. 

Her heart is pounding in her chest and her skin feels on fire. Eve puckers her bottom lip out of the trapping of her teeth, and sets her eyes back to his, lifting her veiled head up from the table. 

Kylo Ren doesn't even take his gaze off her, when he carelessly lifts his knife from his cold plate, _using the same hand that held his cigarette,_ and sinks it into the cement block, which was a poor and unboiled excuse for a dry potato – he doesn't even use a fork to pick the sliver up and slide it into his mouth, he just uses the sharp end of his knife and even runs his tongue along the jagged edges of the butter-blade. 

Eve winces as the burning end of his dart comes _so_ close to his nose – but he hardly feels the sting of heat, as the sight of her wretched burn upon her wrist, is imbedded into the back of his ravaged mind. 

He watches the way her eyes then flicker to the clock at the back wall, "I-I think it's time that I take you back to your cell." She says, refusing to acknowledge the meaning of his sentence and instead beginning to neatly place the wooden pieces back upon the board for a group will soon all flood into the eating hall for dinner. 

_She's scared again,_ but whether she feared him, what he could do, or both – was still up for him to figure out. Though, Kylo Ren, the condemned killer, couldn't care in the slightest if the Sister was cautious around him, so long as she was... _around_ _him._

Eve is treated to the sight of that well-defined throat swallowing, his Adam's apple bobbing briefly before Kylo places his knife back on his cold plate, and sucks back on his hot cigarette, which was slowly shrinking closer to his mouth.

The man's eyes turn back to his meal, which he had only just touched for the first time in forty minutes, with a raised eyebrow.

"Do I at least get to eat?" He asked, his tongue flicking to the corner of his rising smirk. Eve's stomach erupted into a million butterflies, feeling full on them despite the fact that she _also_ hadn't eaten all day.

This close to her own personal, enticing devil of a man, Eve is only drawn closer as the brown of his mortal eyes, are just as intense as the smouldering paintings upon the ceilings of a church – it was told that even Lucifer was one of the most beautiful angels from the holy heavens... so maybe, Kylo Ren was previously an angel too, _but a fallen one._

Eve gives Kylo a small, timid smile and stands from her chair as her left hand curls around the cross upon her necklace – trying to ignore her inner thoughts, "It's too late to eat here, the other patients will be arriving soon for dinner." She says, now eyeing the knife upon his plate and imagining him slicing her neck with it, once he decided she bored him with her constant conflict.

She shakes her head and again, bites her lip, "You're still moderately in solitary confinement, so despite the fact that you can leave your room, it will take some time before Father Hux allows you to be around the other inmates."

His cigarette crumpled in his hand at the name. White knuckles from clenching his right fist too hard, and teeth gritting in a brutal effort to remain silent, Kylo's vision was slowly tinting red with suppressed rage – he vowed not to the Lord, nor to the man in Hades, that the preacher of White-Ivy, would feel as much pain, if not more than what he had given to _his_ angel.

Eve tries to ignore the way she noticed the patients jaw tense, and his eyes distantly unsettle upon the chessboard – as if he had lost himself to the trappings of his crazed mind.

The Sister didn't know if it was a good, or bad thing, that the guard which had followed them from Kylo's cell to here, had left a couple minutes ago to assist in a brawl over in the northern-wings, where the females were kept – and she also didn't know if she was allowed to do what she was about to do, but lately she has been doing much worse. 

The set of keys in her pocket, suddenly feel heavier than they actually are.

"You can take your dinner with you," She glances to the knife once again, and suddenly takes the plate in her own hands as she leans over with a nervous grin, _"Here –_ I'll carry it for you."

As they left the dining hall, Eve prayed that Kylo wouldn't notice that she had left the knife back on the table, _which he did –_ and Kylo Ren only trusted that she didn't see the way he picked it right back up, and slipped it into his deep pocket... 

They walk side by side through the twining, endless and hopeless, hallways of White-Ivy penitentiary, and some fellow Sister's walk briskly by with concerned stares at the cruel man who trudges so calmly beside one of their own, who holds tightly onto a ceramic plate whilst the inmate's hands are as tightly shackled. 

As they walk beneath the entry peak to the dimmed eastern-ward, Kylo Ren purposely shuffles closer to the woman beside him and brushes his grazed knuckles against the side of her thigh. When the plate shook in her hands and her eyes widened at the simple touch, the crazed patient only gave her a lopsided grin and moved his hand away – acting as if it was by accident, and meant nothing to him, despite the fact that his large hand then flexed intrusively behind his back, _needing_ to feel more of her. 

Their shoes both click and echo down the halls, but soon enough, hundreds more are marching off in the distance as they meet a conjunction to find Darlot and two male nurses, leading a group of at least thirty sedated inmates to who were all shackled together by their wrists and bare ankles, back to where the doomed pair had just come from – the dining hall. 

Eve nods meekly to Sister Darlot, standing up straighter and grinning a bit sheepishly as Kylo Ren stands tall beside her with a grim face as they allow the group to shuffle by with the clicking and clanking of their shackles. 

The other inmates don't even dare to glance at Patient 727 – but he runs his dark eyes all along the line of lunatics. 

She can almost feel the heat coming right off the fire which obliterates Kylo's heart into smouldering dust and ash. He's so close to her, and though Darlot has already passed, Eve still fears that a patient following the other Sister, might point out the way Eve's cheeks have flushed red.

She takes a small, polite step forwards, when Kylo Ren grows impatient of waiting for the last two inmates to pass, and moves – deliberately bucking his hips into Eve's behind. 

_Yes, a small, polite step is what Eve took –_ when really, her skeleton nearly jumped right out of her skin at the pressure of Kylo Ren's manhood already pressing into her lower back. 

Other than the small gasp in which came from the Sister – the pair of them continued walking to Kylo Ren's cell. Eve kept silent, leaving the uneasy feeling in her chest to begin plucking upon the strings of her heart and sing a song of ambiguous harm to come, if she does not keep a steady pace away from the towering man behind her.

When Kylo takes the plate from her hands, she suddenly wished that she had waited for a guard to escort him instead as she pulls the set of keys from her drape's pocket, and opens the metal-cell door to Patient 727's cage. 

Eve cowardly curls around the door and makes way for Kylo Ren to walk through the door – but he makes no effort to move. 

"Do join me for dinner, Eve." He cocked a brow and licked his lips, then tilting his head to the darkness from his cell which now bled into the light of the hallway, "Come into my _humble_ home."

She looks the same as those pale statues of Virgin Mary which line the stairs to the entrance to White-Ivy – frozen in place and slowly losing the colour of her complexion as shock sinks low into her bones. 

There's a sombre warmth coming from the murk of his cell, but the void isn't what ultimately draws her into the shadows – its Kylo's invite. She shouldn't be doing this, her mind is sent reeling in a replay of kneeling in the abandoned room, where he had turned malicious and greedy on lust for pain... but ignorantly, she willingly puts herself in another position to become his own personal _pawn._

Kylo's waiting for her to answer, but he knows one way or another, he will force her into that _damned_ room as he watches the way her lip sinks back beneath her teeth, and then her fingers twine into the rosary which hangs limply around her neck. _  
_

She's dizzy from all the blood rushing to her head, and the way the handsome, but sardonic man smiles – only makes her even more flustered.

Kylo Ren looks like something out of a painting, a refined delineation that was completely out of place in this modern life of melancholy craziness, but somehow the mania in the glimmer of his oiled eyes which were perfectly painted upon the white canvass of his face, matched him perfectly. The flickering and amused light of the hallway, is dancing in his eyes, and it takes Eve a moment before she has the presence of her own _sane-_ mind to not not stare so obviously.

The Sister swallows down the lump in her throat, feeling the burn as it then swirls in the acid of her stomach which is flipping relentlessly – and she nods.

When she follows him into his own cage, she drops her head to eye her feet which cross the line between the black and white tiles of the eastern-sector and to the cement of his cell. 

The tiles remind her of the game they play. 

This wretched world was a chessboard. The servants of humanity were either painted white or black, and it seemed that the Lord and the Devil were playing with them all. 

There’s a barbaric beauty in the well planned sacrifices, strategic positioning, and even a beauty of perseverance _–_ but how is one supposed to keep up with so many rules? And where did she stand on that chessboard, for Kylo was surely a black gambit... but she didn't see herself standing beside him just yet, perhaps instead she was cowering behind his manoeuvres, for the light side seemed to scare her more than him. 

Although, Eve could never imagine Kylo Ren being a piece in someone else's game – he was a man who needed, craved and yearned, total control. He was no servant, he was _the_ master of play.

 _"Oh –"_ Kylo breaks her out of her thoughts as he turns back around just before she walks through the door, smirking down at her with the ceramic plate digging into both of their chests.

"Don't forget to wipe your feet on the welcome mat before coming in." He jokes, but then all at once... his smirk falls and his eyes turn dark. 

He smells of bitter cigarette smoke mixed with his natural musk, and there's a slight whiff of a metallic tang to it – always reminding her of the scent of blood. There's a definite air of coldness about him that most people would find inapproachable, which must have been caused by their internal survival instinct, but Eve must lack that part of her. 

In only a matter of seconds, Kylo has steadily walked backwards and she only took one step before the plate in his hands was thrown carelessly onto the thin, foam mattress upon the frame of his bed – and then he slammed her back into the metal door, which closed them both into the dark. 

His large, shackled hands are curled around her shoulders – the silver chain pressing slightly against her neck as Kylo leans his lips to her's, but before they properly meet, Eve turns her face to the side and winces more at the pain in her chest, rather than the bruises forming along her spine. 

"W-We can't be doing whatever this is," She whispers with tears rising in her eyes, "If anyone found out... I don't even know what they would do to you, but I don't doubt for a second that they wouldn't lock me up here, too."

Kylo's fingers loosely found their way over to the front buttons which were sewed between the lovely mounds upon her heaving ribs – but Kylo was still yet to see what she kept hidden beneath the loose black drapes she always wore. 

Despite her words, she allowed him to slowly pull her veil off her head again, and it fell like a puddle at her feet. Eve assumes that Kylo was just going to ignore her, and her stomach swirled relentlessly with apprehension as he stared adoringly at her hair, only to then use his other hand to brush it away from her neck. He then leans in and finally speaks against her skin as his fingers begin undoing the buttons of her dress, like they did in the sanctuary.

He smirks and his teeth nibble on her skin lightly, "That doesn't sound so bad, perhaps we could be cell-buddies?" He taunts, eyes wildly on fire beneath the surface of his hooded, cool gaze.

Eve sucks a sharp breath into her lungs as the cold hair hits the skin of her chest. Her breasts are still covered, but Kylo does manage to slide his hand beneath the material of her loose dress, and cup the fleshy mound delicately – before he groans into the crook of her neck and kneads it like dough in his palm. 

"K-Kylo," She tried, her voice coming off as nothing but a gentle, timid shudder. 

He began to suck and kiss every inch of skin along her jaw. Patient 727's member is already hard with the need of attention, but all of his, lies on the angel in his trap of cruel hands, and metal cage. 

His free hand glides around her waist and pulls her closer into him with a low gruff – his fingers running agonisingly slow down each bump of her shivering spine. Her pathetic noises _make him_ buck into her. 

"Eve, you can't just keep letting other people, _holy or not,_ form an army around you... only to keep you away what _they_ deem to be evil." He tuts against her cheek, then swiping his hot tongue along the rose of her bashfulness.

Eve's skin is on fire. Her morality is nothing but embers and ash. She bites her lips to suppress her own noises of sinful arousal but when Kylo grips his fingers into the bones of her hip _– his other still groping her breast –_ she audibly whines. She's desperate for him, yet the last time they did something unholy, it didn't go so well. 

His shackles are being pulled so tight, that the metal is digging into his skin and the chains are clipping the flesh of Eve's chest between every loop – but nothing felt as cold as the cross of her rosary, which was now resting erotically between her breasts.

Kylo Ren's hands are tingling, every waking breath of his soul, is screaming for more, more, more. She tastes so sweet upon his tongue, and he can almost savour the remnants of her holy tears. By the second, he is growling with impatience, but he is trying to keep his internal lion beneath the surface – as it licks its lips at the mouthwatering fawn in its claws... but then, she twines her hands around his shoulders, and surprisingly pushes _herself_ into _him._

That's all he needed, "You need to make your own moves from now on, and only speak when it is time to say checkmate." He huskily pants against her, now grinding his clothed tent into her.

The feeling is foreign, but Eve lets him do whatever he pleases with her. She is his own puppet, angel, sinner and _pawn._

A noise of helplessness tore from her throat. The Sister believed him. Thought her a fool for doing so, _but still,_ she believed Kylo's words completely. She parted her lips softly. _  
_

Musical moans sing from his throat and play out of his mouth, each rough and gravelly note dizzying, like the spin of a record which can never be replicated, as Eve's bones even dance to the sounds of his lust.

If only she could feel the sharp end of the blade that sat deep in his pocket – for Kylo surely could, it was stabbing into the skin of his toned thigh with every thrust of his hips. Each movement transferred between pain and pleasure, becoming more gratifying as he then let go of her soft breast and gripped her by her chattering chin – forcing her eyes to meet his.

"What do you believe would be _your_ checkmate?" He asked her, feeling the ecstasy of desire consuming them both. 

Eve's heart was lost in a metaphorical paradise, one which may live in the darkness of Kylo's eyes. There's definitely something to Patient 727 which mustn't be from this world – a sort of aura that is captivating as much as his general air is cold. Eve is silent for a long moment, eyes narrowing slightly in concentration, and it surprises Kylo that his question is being taken seriously. 

Swallowing heavily, Eve straightened her shoulders. Her chest felt small, far too small for her quivering lungs to expand and draw enough air – leaving her feeling like she was soon to faint. Preferably while she still had _somewhat,_ a reign over her voice and sinful emotions. She knew deep down, that she had already forfeited everything – her faith, her morality, her religion and enlightenment, and now she only wishes to hand over her whole life to the devil before her, with nothing but divinity.

He stares to her lips, when she finally speaks the words in which he has always wished to hear, come from that pretty, _damned_ mouth.

"Turning my back to the Lord." The Sister says, her conscience thinning, but her lust only thickening like the sexual tension in the air between them. 

Every muscle in Kylo contracts. His cock pressing agonisingly hard against the rough material of his jumpsuit. The rush to the bleeding lust in his head, almost replicates the sick and addictive sensation, that a crack high would give. Eve's nothing like the mundane drugs in which they gave out in White-Ivy, she was compelling, delicious, enslaving and _oh, fuck –_ was she innocent in her design of his own personal cocaine!

Their lips are so close, they're practically already dancing their wet kisses against one another when Kylo speaks again, both of his hands now cupping her cheeks – the chain binding his wrists, curling around her shiny collarbones. 

Kylo's words are slow, and surprisingly, _cautious._

"And if you did... who do you suppose you would face?"

Eve swallowed down a howl of iniquitous inclination, her nails digging bloody grooves inside the flesh of her scarred palms. She traitorously wished, fiercely, helplessly and immorally, that she could swipe away the fear from her belly, but it will unconditionally always flutter whenever she stands in the eye of the condemned killer – who looms over her. 

Only that was not quite the truth, Eve realised this within the matter of a skipped heartbeat... a sudden surge of relief that was so potent it skirted the edges of _manic_ hunger. She wanted to feel full on something for once, she wanted to feel completed. Kylo Ren seemed to hold all the answers within his insane mind, and although she was yet to figure out if he was a man who believed his words as confidently as he poetically spoke them – she decided that it was time she listens to _her own_ internal yearning.

The Sister's unveiled head arched back against the door of the cell, and her hips quivered against Kylo's. She hopes that she won't ever admit it out loud, but she suddenly loved the way the inmate took complete control over her – as he had done from the very moment their eyes met.

She whispers solemnly against his lips, _"You."_

For the first time ever, Kylo Ren was caught off guard. Patient 727 could have sworn that she would have spoken the devil's name instead. 

Kylo's kaleidoscopic tincture to his insane mind, all at once, flicked into broken smashing of beautiful, mystical and wondrous, flames of red. All swirling and chaotic thoughts were reduced to no more than a white noise, and his throat tightened with the craving of only _her._

He smirked. Kylo almost feels as if he has stolen the delicacy of the heavens for the wretch of hell, only to never throw her into the flames, and instead keep her to his merciless self. 

She's all his – violence or soft touches. Her skin, breath, body, and soul... _belongs to him._

Eve was the apple of his transgressive eye, or perhaps she was the naked, enchanting woman who plucked it from the garden and he was the snake who coiled around her weightless remorse for turning her back to the shining light of prosperity. 

The chains of his shackles, make a clutter of noise which echoes in the small space of his cement home. _Ever-so-slowly,_ Kylo Ren then dipped his forehead against her's, all while his hands move to the opening of her unbuttoned drapes, to splay his long fingers over her heart. The patient could feel the intense, rhythmic beat of her conflicted pounding, beneath the thin skin.

He muttered the same words in which he had spoken to her, once before, "Tell me what you want, Eve."

She perked up her wobbling chin at the sound of her new name, which he had plucked from the book of good, seemingly for the doing of bad – but Eve didn't care, she loved to hear the name fall of his tongue and glide through his soft lips. It was the name of a new soul, and it became the marking of her changed conscience.

The Sister's lips were so red, Kylo would have presumed she had polished them with the ink of scarlet from those tubes of lipstick in which he had seen popularly hit the shelves in the past couple of years.

She rose her hand to his cheek, and caresses the side of his face softly – feeling the coarseness of his scarred cheeks, and the burn upon his temple. She refuses to wince at the texture of cruelty. Kylo's mind may be ruined by the devil's touch, but the hands of White-Ivy were just as vindictive to his pale mask, in which he wore over the face of his inner-demon.

Eve nodded to that very demon before her and whispered ever-so-vulnerably, "I want you."

Kylo Ren brings their lips together, only to bring them back apart for one second to smirk and chime, _"Checkmate."_


	14. THIRTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to hell, purely for writing this :')

Cardinal virtue and merry goodness are wept in the crystal tears of betrayal by the spirit in the sky, as His intended holy child, becomes slain by the markings of tender malignancy. 

The angel's metaphorical wings are clipped, scarred, and falling out from her back as Kylo Ren picks her up and leans her upon his single-bed. 

It's a fall from consecrated grace, the way her eyes fill with a perpetual darkness, a void that solemnly feeds on nothing but the lust exuding off the man above Eve. 

Her desire is at an all-time high, but as her bruised spine sinks into the foam mattress, she can't help but imagine the way her faith is slowly falling through the cotton-clouds, rippling into vapoured mist and crashing through the surface of humanity, summoned to a destination by God's pointed finger, only to lead it right into the claws of Satan, himself. 

But there's no going back to heaven now. She's made her choice, and her choice was to curl around Kylo Ren, and act as if he was the anchor between the thrashing existences of good and bad. 

She's a mess of moans and tiny whimpers, as Kylo's hands ran along every inch of her body – he made sure to savour the seconds as he had peeled the heavy, black materials from her divine skin, but the moment the rosary glimmered somehow in the dark, from between her perky breasts... Kylo Ren turned into some kind of primal monster who needed to ravage her glory before the shadows of his demons did first.

With a twitch of dark eyes, Eve threw all caution into the gloom and only gave all of her mercy to his attacking kisses. Kylo didn’t leave a single inch of her goose-bumped flesh, _untouched –_ he had to feel every crook, crevasse, inch, and hair, to be fully satisfied, only to then sink his fingers into her back and save the little welts of skin beneath his nails for later when he goes through withdrawals.

He leaned over her, his white singlet thrown against the wall, leaving his solid, toned chest on show with all his little scars and dripping preparation upon the porcelain. Eve's fingers pathetically press against his muscles, not pushing him away but not necessarily pulling him any closer – Kylo was in control, not her... and for some sick and twisted reason, that only made her nerves fire in the scorching flame of yearning predilection.

Cupid must have her in his crazed chokehold as he digs the pointed end of his arrow between her eyes, like those inhuman experiments where they drilled holes in his patient's skull to access the brain – for the only thing that is potent and utterly tangible in Eve's mind, is Kylo Ren, Kylo Ren, Kylo Ren and the way he touches her, kisses her, and looks at her. 

Kylo tightly gripped onto the bone of Eve's bucked hips as his other hand's fingers began running through her exposed hair, twisting it, pulling it and knotting it around his strong and dangerous fists. 

Breaking from the kiss, their bellowed breath both fan upon one another's face, and as Kylo Ren watches her with dilated pupils, he truely takes in the sight of his Eve, naked in his cell – rather than the garden in which she must have come from. 

Satan sits upon his shoulder, whispering cruel tendencies into his ear and ordering him to turn her pure skin, purple and black – for she's a blank canvass, only awaiting the touch of his artistry to perfectly give her prosperity in the eye and marking of his adoration.

And although, Kylo's patience is thin and his hands are rough, he refuses to listen to the commands of another man, unless it was the insane voice which lingered in the shadows of his tangled mind – he may or may not paint her blue, purple and black, but if he does, it will _his_ own design.

She feels vulnerable beneath his heavy stare, and slightly humiliated without her clothes to cover what she has hidden for as long as she can remember, but as she rose her chin up at him, her skull pressing into the thin excuse he had for a pillow, he was nothing but a haloed but tragically dark, blurry figure in the centre of her hooded, intoxicated gaze. 

There's no doubting that Kylo Ren isn't moulded by the hands of the devil, _himself_ – but the religious child only pleads with the demon as the patient leaned back into her and dragged his moist and sly tongue down the expanse of her arched neck and stops at the base – laying his lips down and sucking upon the salty sweetness of her skin, only to then groan and pull a rope of beads from her rosary between his ivory's, before lightly sinking his teeth into her collarbone.

Eve cries at first, only to unexpectedly moan at the sharpness. His caliginous presence excited her, above every hint of pain he could bestow... _God,_ this sabotage of worthy is criminal, she can almost hear her invite to heaven being ripped into shreds as Kylo begins sucking a _purple_ marking across her shoulder.

Faith has enslaved her but the madness Kylo Ren brings to her, becomes something she only now craves. Eliciting a shudder from her each time he sucks harder and in a different spot upon her skin, Eve's eyes now roll to the back of her head as she is truely painted in rich colours of Kylo Ren's musing desire. 

Deciding he's done _only_ when he tastes the metallic of her crimson upon his tastebuds, his mouth parts from her flesh with a delicious smack. Kylo then releases his tight grasp from the locks of her now-knotted hair, sliding his large palm lower and clutching onto the back of her damp neck with a death grip, squeezing like he owns the spine inside her. A rough groan dies on his lips as he comes back to her, lips touching again and tongue slithering into the heat of her mouth as if he wished to suck the soul right from the Sister's heaving lungs. 

He swallows down her whimpers, only to break away again and rasp against her soft lips, "Say it again, _Eve."_

All the swirling whispers of fright and betrayal, faded from Eve's head and only made room for Kylo's voice to tarnish the endless echoes of reprisal. At once, the moment he spoke his words with such a gruff, vibrating tone – even the Sister's vision cleared, giving him a holy glow in the middle of her groggy state of mind.

Kylo Ren had asked her to speak the words in which she spoke only moments before and since then, he had pinned her limbs down to each corner of his tiny, frail bed. He wanted another green-light to spark in the fires of her wide and drunk eyes, but his body wasn't prepared to let her go yet if instead they turned into a bleak, hazardous red. 

She hesitated. Kylo Ren didn't care – he'd have her, _one way or another._

Her tarnished, shattered faith lives now in the Garden Of Eden, but Kylo Ren would only set that _damn_ garth of innocence into nothing but cinder and charcoal with the heat of his cruel sanity, so long as his Eve doesn't go back to return the red apple of her conscience with pleads to find what has become lost. 

_But she'd never entreat, nor beg –_ the cross may still be strung above the thrashing beat of her living heart, but her devout to God is as dead as a holy-ghost, sinking into the shadows of her own dark treachery. 

Eve couldn't seem to comprehend what it was exactly which had lead the two of them to this very moment in slowed time. Her black drapes were limp on the stone, and her white and rather unflattering, underwear, was flung across the small space of the cell – leaving her shuddering and stark naked with nothing but the rotting, white feathers of her metaphorical dying wings, sprawling around her virgin incarnation.

In the battle of her quivering silence and wide stare – Kylo Ren considered the stripped Sister for a moment. He inclined his head with a nod, resting his forehead against her's as he repeated himself, a grave hue dancing with the lingering lust in his eyes.

"Tell me what you want again, Eve –" He drawled, and she sucked in every warm breath he blowed. Only when his hand rose to her neck and squeezed, was when she realised she didn't have a choice but to comply to his request. It wasn't a question, it was an order.

" – I _need_ to hear it again."

It was too late to not go through with whatever was about to happen, now. Eve's already as _good_ as any _bad_ sinner. In the end, the fact that she ever allowed Kylo Ren to sway her to his darkness, will be what ultimately leads her straight to hell in the afterlife.

Her virginity was believed to be one of the most important things about her life beneath the ray of enlightenment – but with one look at Kylo Ren, the Sister no longer believes that deflowering an angel could mean an eternity in fiery hell, for people with lost personalities will suffer a great deal more than those with lost virginities. 

It can't be what sexual endeavour she takes that will become the death of her – it is Kylo's sinister heart instead, but Eve will only wait for his soft touches to turn rough, before worrying about the punishments to come, for the illusion of his demonic beauty, was almost a reward for her lack of passion throughout all her years, and she wasn't about to wait a second longer. 

She tried to clear her voice before speaking, but his hand was wrapped too tightly around her airways, "I-I want you, please." 

Patient 727's pale face shone and glistened in the reflection of her eyes. He was nothing of the scary beings her preacher boasted and described devils to be, but the smirk upon his face could have been carved by Satan's own trident.

His hand slid down the expanse of her neck and pushed against her ribcage as he mounted her higher, sitting practically upon her stomach as his other hand quickly rushed to his half-tied jumpsuit, forcing the material down the expanse of his thick thighs – his member almost cutting the tension in the air as it sprung long and freely. 

The devil on his shoulder, groaned at the simple thought of the religious girl's lips around his cock, his erection almost becoming painful as the crisp air met it.

All the hairs on the back of his lower-back rose and as he wrapped his hand around his shaft, he licked his lips and moaned.

Leaning back forwards, Kylo bucked his hips higher towards Eve's pretty face – his raven hair falling in-front of his eyes as he looked down at her, still using her caving chest as support to keep him up, before slapping it against the wall above the bedhead, causing his shackles to clip the Sister's nose. 

"Kiss me." He said.

Eve tried to crawl and rise to his face, but he shook his head and bucked his hips higher, his cock prodding at her craned neck.

The patient was the one in cuffs, but he was in total control over the demarcated Sister. He huffed and smirked, "– Not there."

She swallowed, feeling his length only press further into her neck – his pre-fluids slicking against her clean flesh. 

But like always, Eve complied and didn’t even flinch as after she nodded, Kylo praised her and moved his hand to her head, sinking his fingers into her hair and pushing her lips to his cock. 

He had hauled the Sister's sweet mouth closer, and Eve half heartedly pulled back with little power against his strength, wincing at the sting in her scalp, but allowing her mouth to open around his salty taste as she chases in the delirious pinpricks of pain that sang sweetly alongside the blossoming contusions, all over her beautiful body. 

Kylo allowed her dainty hand to stroke his girth for a moment before she pulled away and kissed the pink tip, earning another rough sound to rise in his throat, before trailing her tongue along his length like she had in the abandoned cell, days ago. 

He held his breath as she innocently _kissed_ him again slowly. She was so inexperienced and innocent, but the patient was grateful that she was following her primal desire, and at least pumping his length with her hand carefully and with furrowed brows of concentration. 

He exhaled shakily as she pecked his tip again, and a moment later when she pulled away, Eve looked up at him with a rope of spit dripping from her red lips. 

He growled at the sight of his fallen angel. 

Her fingers splayed upon the white of his thigh, and as a sharp feeling strikes her heart at the taste of him upon her tongue, Eve has no time to get used to the lock of her extended jaw before Kylo immediately and mercilessly thrusts back passed her lips and into her throat _– roughly._

With her hair messily pulled into his hands in a knot of silky rope between his fingers, and sticking to the grazes upon his bloody knuckles, he led her every movement – forcing her to take him into her wet mouth, bucking further and further down her throat, feeling like the sly snake of the garden, slithering right into Eve's soul as she chokes around his depravity. 

Dazed and confused, she only clung onto his thighs and tried to lean further up to him as the muscles in her abdomen began to ache in the position he had placed her in. Eve knew that Kylo Ren struggled to not be rough with her, but she hadn't expected him to be this _impatient._

When she wasn't getting enough air through her nostrils and began retching around him, the Sister's face began to turn blue and the corners of her eyes started to sprinkle with stars _– and Lord, were they stunning._

Kylo's thrusts become erratic, loosing all sense of rhythm and his groans began to erupt louder. With lungs burning and skin on fire, Eve only assumed that his panting and the sweat beads running down his toned chest, was a good sign that her torment was slowly coming to an end... but could it be possible that one could only sexually enjoy the torture bestowed upon an individual? 

_She's definitely going to hell._

He became more vocal as his orgasm quickly approached, his grip on the weakened and used Sister, only tightening as the sinful sounds bounced off the inescapable walls of his very own cell. He loved the pure hellishness of it all as he came with a strangled noise falling from his lips and with a roll of his black eyes. 

Eve desperately tried to pull away as a foreign, warm liquid shot down her throat and as he began to pull out along her tongue, she gagged at the taste and spat it right back out against him with a cry.

With his own orgasm flicking back upon his abdomen, Kylo Ren opened his hooded eyes and his face quickly twisted. 

_And then,_ all of a sudden – he spat too, right on Eve's terrified face, and his saliva only slipped along her cheeks, down her nose, between her lips and even ricochet upon her chest.

It was a forceful blow, and the Sister gasped as if his spit was laced with poison, awaiting for it to boil through her skin and turn her insides black. She looked up to him with glazed and teary, perplexed eyes of pure chastity. 

But Kylo Ren has no sympathy for the devil, and especially not for angels either. He pulled back and before Eve could even flinch, his hand struck her on the side of the face – hiding those eyes away before they shined a light into his barbaric shadows. 

Neck almost snapping, the Sister now faced the other wall with wide eyes, but the patient still towered in the vision of her peripheral's. The sting spread into what felt like one giant purple and black bruise upon her cheek.

Eve had tried to keep her reaction to herself, for she knew that Kylo Ren only found pleasure out of _her_ pain – but accidentally, she let a whimper slip and another uncontrollable noise or two echo, as her trembling hand cupped her red face. 

"You swallow every seed of me, Eve." Kylo Ren rasped, his own fingers now clawing away her's, to force her to face him again. 

A single tear cooled the heat of the slap, but the indents of his fingers now pinching into her already aching jaw, caused her to make more sounds which only seemed to drive the insane inmate beyond whatever his psychologist had already diagnosed him to be – eyes alight and grin broadening.

He smiled as her lips only quivered with both his spit and her's, giving it a glossy shine. Kylo Ren spoke with the voice of an authoritarian, a supreme – for he only owned every inch of her vessel and broken soul, _she knew this too._

"You must let my darkness grow in the purity of your stomach and womb." He said. 

Sinking lower, Patient 727 only then pulled her face closer for a chaste kiss, allowing him to taste himself on her lips. Kylo Ren found it... _satisfying, always._

She shook her head and pulled away, "I-I am sorry, Kylo... I didn't know."

Still high on his previous orgasm, Kylo's black pupils only dilated as their eyes met. His hand left her chin and both of them now curled around the bones of her hips. 

Even frightened, his angel is so enticing. She should be the one locked behind bars to keep men from committing sadistic violence over her virtue – but Kylo Ren could only boast that she was all _his_ to tarnish. 

The calm didn't last longer than a few minutes before he was ready to go again. He loved the sweet, pained sounds that came from her and the Sister couldn't lie, _she did too._

He groaned again, dropped his head to Eve's shoulder and began to grind his hips against her as she spread for him. His breathing was loud and ragged, and she only whined at the unfamiliar feeling – not knowing how to react, or where to put her hands. 

Kylo Ren's rough desires was obviously pulsating between his legs – throbbing against her tender flesh that only pushed further into his hard length as if he was the missing piece to her. She shudders as Kylo runs his fingers down to her heat.

The Sister cried and her Lord only wept, _too._

He thumbs her core, tantalisingly slow and in a quick reaction, Eve grasps onto his toned arms for he brings her an electrifying awake of sensations, and whilst her sounds rise, so does his urgency. Kylo rubs her harder and faster, adoring the way her face contorts as her nails dig into his skin, bringing up blood. 

And then, he moved his two fingers into her.

She bites hard onto her tongue to hold back screams, tasting him again and letting the flavour only sink into her teeth this time, instead of spitting it back out with a grimace – for she never wanted to disappoint the man above her, who brought so much euphoria to her morality which used to be filled with nothing but wretched melancholia.

Metallic soon overflowed the taste of him, and the scarlet only rose from the indents of her own teeth as Eve tried to refrain from making a noise which would surely bounce all throughout the halls of White-Ivy – and upon that mere thought, she almost laughed to think about the first time she walked the checkered floors, not even having an ounce of an inkling as to what she would un-regrettably do in the shadows of this horrible place.

When his slicked, wet fingers tore themselves away from her – the Sister's bottom lip wobbled and her eyebrows knitted together, only for Kylo Ren to silence her when he gripped onto himself again and aligned himself with her entrance. 

"Don't be afraid." He said, locking lustful gazes again. She's not frightened anymore, but Eve sure does get a rise in her blood of apprehension – though she makes no effort to pull away.

The patient who has somehow clouded every inch of her mind, uses one of his toned arms to caress the side of _his_ angel's body, moving along her curves.

The Sister's wildly innocent face which was full of curiosity awakened the hellhound within Kylo's black soul. Eve was so dazed by the smirk upon his face that she did not notice the crimson that slowly seeped from her core as his fingers slowly pulled out of her. The deep cut in which he had caused with her very own rosary, had opened again – but she couldn't even feel the deep sting, all she could feel was the emptiness now inside her, without Kylo's warm fingers to fill her right up. 

Kylo's eyes darkened if that was even possible. He groaned deeply at the sight in front of him, his pale fingers rising and beautifully laced with _her_ addictive scarlet – and then his focus shifted to the woman behind them. 

Eve was trembling below his hips, her skin naked only for the drops of blood from his fingers, to ricochet upon her stomach. The pure and holy angel was perniciously spread out for the devil. Kylo swallowed roughly and then grabbed onto his hardness with his bloodied hand, using the heat of her crimson liquid to easily pump himself and then align with the entrance to her most virtuous, holy part of her entire spirit. 

The Sister had never thought that sexual intercourse would be something that she would _ever_ partake in. Nobody spoke of it, unless they were calling it a sin. It was taboo in the church and especially upon the tongue of a wondering Sister – but as she meets the eyes above her, she realises that sex is not just the act in itself, but the build up, the heaviness in the cold air, and the way it completely controls a soul.

The Bible says, _"– A man shall leave his father and mother and hold fast to his wife, and the two shall become one flesh,"_ and although she was never intended to become a wife, _especially_ to Kylo Ren, she couldn't help but already feel as if her veins were tangling with his, and her quaking heart was only singing to the tune of his own.

She knew that this wasn't going to be emotional, nor brought on the basis of love. Sex with Kylo wouldn't be slow or intimate. It was going to be raw and intense, formed purely by physical attraction. That was a hard pill for Eve to swallow at first, but once the drug bubbled in her stomach... she only craved him more. 

"I'm not." She whispered back, _truthfully._

He didn't need her to utter another word. With one, forceful, rough, sharp snap of his hips, Kylo Ren stretched her walls to the shape of his intimidating length and girth. She screamed, only for it to muffle right back into her throat when he aggressively slapped his hand over her mouth.

The desperate exigency which shot right through the Sister's system, became the fire of to her loins whilst the adrenaline in her soaring blood which was rising rapidly, felt like blazing electricity. Eve was utterly sparked by the voltage which Kylo Ren could bring, he was the touch of lightning himself, and the silver cross which sat above her heart, was nothing but a magnet for his current to point to. 

Eve made noises in which she had never thought could belong to her chest and voice. Her praying hands run up his back and her nails grip into his shoulders as he kissed her deep and dirty, the way a demon truely would swirl its tongue in the mouth of a pure virgin.

With every thrust, she was braced with vicious passion. Kylo Ren never even tried to be soft with Eve, but she didn't think he would grace her with mercy, since the moment he began to practically tear the clothes off her body – but when the healing wound already cut into the walls of her core, opened wider and more blood drew, it only made her easier for the patient to pound into.

She screamed, more pain and blissful pleasure bringing a whole new meaning to sex. Kylo Ren's eyes snapped to black again, but only because he was totally submerged into the yearning void that loitered in the deepest depths of his sins.

"Curse for me." He moaned, finally feeling what he wanted to be embraced with, the moment his eyes landed on the young Sister. 

_Again,_ Eve knew it wasn’t a request and in the mixture of moans and whimpers, she wanted to refuse it – for she had never spoken words of treachery. 

She bit down on her lower lip and Kylo watched her face twist – the pleasure was so intense that even his fingers hurt from how hard he was gripping onto her hips. His eyes moved to his cock, watching it slide inside and out, thrusting faster and harder each time. 

Eve's hand wrapped around the nape of his neck, a few pieces of black hair weaving between her trembling, needy fingers.

"K-Kylo –" She cried. 

The monster within the man growled, "Curse to the heavens for me, angel!"

The Sister's nerves erupt as if one of the nurses, _who carry sharp sedation needles,_ had injected fireworks into her bloodstream. The naked mortal clutched tight onto the man who had a demon living in his mind, sucking her bottom lip between her teeth, and biting it roughly as he kept the pace quicker than it had ever been before. 

Eve's pupils were lust blown and wide – she was a sight to behold. An enchantment beyond the holy portraits which were painted upon the ceiling of a church. 

When once again, his movements were becoming sloppy – Kylo Ren bit down on her shoulder, growling at the sweet taste which flooded into his mouth. This time, she didn't even feel the pain... _only pure pleasure._

The harder he _fucked_ her, the louder she moaned and howled, and the frail, metal bed beneath them began to creak and bash into the wall – Eve only briefly prayed that nobody could hear them, but nobody was there to listen, anyway – guards, patients, and the turned back of the Lord. 

A moan of desperation fell from the dilapidated Sister's lips, raspy from the way she had moaned his name like it was an oath to their _insane_ secret affair.

"Oh –" She croaked as the pressure began to build in her abdomen, feeling like a twist in her guts but she only invited the building ache, "K-Kylo... _f-fuck."_

The word sounds wrong coming from her tongue, but the taste of tarnish is all _so_ right. Her morality was nothing but shatters among the ash of hell's overdosing fires. As the climax was striking every inch of her skin and shocking her insides like lightning bolts and ravaged electricity, the ominous glass of her broken faith was now raining down around them in a shimmering crash. 

The cell was drummed with the power of sin, nothing could survive in its cruel wake within the bleeding darkness, which was breathed from Kylo Ren's chest, to which she only sucked right into her own. Eve choked on the humid air as the explosion of her conviction was bursted by the rush of her orgasm, ricocheting even onto Patient 727's wicked heart. 

Soon enough, Eve began to quiver and quake beneath him and her throat clogs with a broken moan when he thrusts up and into her for one last time before releasing. Blood was everywhere, but scarlet was Kylo's favourite colour and the honour of the Sister was his most precious palette. 

There was a fine line between teasing and torture and he had always bordered on the verge of violence, for he had never met his match – and yet, here he was, smashing his lips against her own as his large hands grab her waist, moving her hips in a rhythm matching the beat of his barbaric and savage heart.

She looked into his eyes, seeing an emptiness behind the dark brown. He wasn’t all human, he couldn’t be with a blank evil expression like that. 

He kissed her again as the silence of their bellowed, satisfied breaths, was the only sound in the room – and it struck her suddenly as his tongue eloped her own with an insistent dominance, that Kylo Ren was truely fuelled on power and danger... but remarkably, Eve knew that she would let him hold all the power over her, for the return of this feeling, is worth every cruel touch of the devil.

Eve was the one to end the kiss, despite the fact that Kylo tried to bite her bottom lip to keep her to stay. 

The Sister feels limp, weak, but totally and endlessly electric as she flutters down from her high and lays her unveiled head soundlessly further into his stained pillow.

And as the elation began to settle upon their dusted bones, she watched the way he fluttered his brown eyes closed, taking her time to take in his own, _undeniable_ beauty.

When there was nothing but the witness of the betrayed heavens, watching over them – is when the silence returned peacefully... and that's also exactly when they both heard the sound of polished shoes clicking upon checkered floors, and keys swinging and chiming in the hallway.

The Sister had failed her Lord, and as she gasped at the sound and Kylo Ren's dark eyes widened, she could only think that those were the footsteps of her punisher. 

_And she was right –_ for had she not created and performed great sins, God would not have sent a ruthless man like Father Hux, to come and break the exquisite treachery in which the Devil and Eve, had _just_ committed. 


	15. FOURTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> eh, not my best but it has been hard to write lately with so much on my mind :/

Faith is betrayed. Morality is forgotten. Harsh and harmful reality will bring justice to all, reckoning with almighty damnation and perdition upon the evil hearts of the mortal world, who attempt to escape God's judgement.

Mercy may not save them from hellfire, but even the devil himself will also choose to violate the upright souls who try to desecrate the void between both army's, and those hiding from both the Lord, and Satan's touch. One cannot verge on the line between virtuous and promiscuous, and Eve has simply chosen her destined path of darkness, so the light has come to strike her one last time for betraying the brilliance.

Heavy footsteps are wandering down the hall, echoing like death's banging drums, the song above the chime of a clicking set of keys, whistling through sealed lips and tormenting hums. God's punishment is taking path onwards to the cage that the plucked, damaged and libidinous angel is now locked inside with the beast that had de-feathered her – only she assisted with every pull of white, dipping her wings into the murky blankness that swam in Kylo Ren's eyes, and taking the leap with him from the clouds, to then thrash into hell and tear her holy wings on the arrowed gates that she snuck through. 

God had watched her sin – and with tender wickedness, the Lord must have decided that Eve would pay for what she had remorselessly given to Kylo Ren, not in the afterlife... _but right now._

Fright pinches the Sister's system, injecting adrenaline and poisonous consternation right into her blood – which is still smeared between her bare legs, upon her tasteless tongue and Patient 727's long fingers. Veins almost thinning, her pulsating heart is no longer grasped by the passionate touch of desire, but it pumps and beats like it's trying to escape the cage of her ribs.

Eve's eyes are impossibly wide with fear, completely losing the drunken shine that once eloped the colour, and draining the hue of her lust to replace it with something much more anxious. Time seems to slow with taunt as they both hear the collective boots clicking down the hall, towards them – but she still lays naked beneath Kylo Ren, despite the fact that her body wants to either sprint somewhere away, or possibly even snap her bones to fit through the bars of Kylo's cell window, to drop into the safety of the ominous forest which surrounded White-Ivy Manor.

Though, despite the gripping fact that Kylo's hands were still pressing her hips forcibly into the mattress _– his eyes moving towards the door with a slow drag –_ Eve remains right in the devil's grasp, for there is no escaping whoever is about to click those keys into the slot of the cell – all that there is left to do, is silently cry while her soul ignorantly prays and pleads her Lord for forgiveness. 

Another slow second ticks by, and the boots are still coming closer and closer. Eve's prayers will forever be ignored, their power is no longer whispered with prosperity, it is seeking forgiveness with vanity of the guilty crime which the heaven's only know that the fallen angel will simply repeat – for the Sister has turned her back from the warmth of enlightenment, replacing the feeling in her heart with the endless frost that laid upon the grounds, only to capture the rising crimson and scarlet of her treacherous blasphemy and sacrilege.

Eve only accepts the charging punishment to come. She closes her eyes and begins to cry as she can feel the walls closing in, forever trapping her in a corpse's shell of the religious woman she had killed, and summoned to a immortalised abyss. 

But Kylo Ren was never one to give up, and although he didn't care if they were caught, he knew that whoever found them would be the one to take the angel from his hands – and nobody can hold, harm, nor keep _his_ Eve... _unless it is him._

His face turns back to her, and as he hovers above Eve like a guardian angel of some sick-sort, he runs his tongue along his white teeth and then says in a calming tone, "Scream."

Endless slithers of hot, salty tears were cascading down her face, washing away the remnants of Kylo's dried spit upon her cheeks. Her eyes widened upon his simple, one word – it made no sense to make a noise, all sound was captured in her quaking chest trying to remain as silent as possible to prolong the draw of her punishing. 

She wiped her cheeks hastily, blinking more glass of treachery away, "W-What?" She stuttered in a hush whisper. 

Kylo Ren's eyes darkened, his black hair messy around his white, almost glowing face. The keys were being swirled around a finger, the whistle of a man still singing the same Christmas tune which skipped and stuttered upon the vinyl player in the dining hall. 

Suddenly, when the ghost of a smirk rose upon Kylo Ren's face, the indent of his true instability weighed on her conscience, for Eve couldn't _ever_ possibly know what the crazed inmate was thinking – but the gleam in his orbs told her that he was most certainly confident in whatever he _was_ thinking.

He pecked her quickly, his hands curling around her forearms and then digging his nails into her flesh before pulling away and whispering against her lips again, "Scream, my angel." 

The Sister tried to protest, and that's exactly when Kylo Ren rolled his eyes and slapped her once before clamping his large, hot hand over her trembling lips, muffling the screams that had clawed the way up from her tightened throat – which is exactly what he had asked her to do, but Kylo loved to always put on a show. 

The Sister groped her fingers around his shoulders, clawing at his skin and trying to push his hand away because he was trapping all of her airways – and then, when that twisted smile only shifted into a dark smirk, was when Kylo moved his hand away, letting her hallowed scream echo through the cell and down the hall... but that wasn't all he did, for then his rough hands twined back around her arms and pulled her off the bed, practically and effortlessly throwing her weakened frame across the small cement room. 

Stinging and painful grazes are swiped upon the skin of her hands and knees as she falls with little grace, and a loud shout. Tears are fogging her vision but as the footsteps suddenly turn into the stomps of multiple boots running, Eve forces herself to pat her bleeding hands around the cement floors in order to find her long drapes and shoes – quickly slipping her leather boots on, pulling the fabric over her head and watching the way Kylo stands, kicking her underwear beneath his single-bed and casually half-tying his jumpsuit just below his prominent, v-lined abdomen of porcelain white.

His dark eyes are watching the way she covers her body once again, hiding her true beauty behind a cloak of bleak black. The fluorescent glow of the moonlight, which crept through the tiny crack of his cell door, illuminated her face, which was no longer shining with the softness of pure ardour, but now it was wet and stiff with trepidation and the ultra-sadism inside his chest, warmed at the simplicity of giving her such divine vigilance and passionate touches, only to punch fear right back into her – and his Eve always did what he said, felt what he gave, as if he was her cult leader and she was an exiled recidivist.

Her eyes which turned back to him as she sat against the wall, covering behind her bent _– clothed –_ knees, saw the way Kylo Ren had changed once again, peeling away his skin and becoming the varmint who wore his attractive vessel as a ploy to capture his victims. 

But she wasn't scared of him still – no matter the way he loomed with a shadowed face as he stalked over to her, like a cat sneaking up to a mouse... and all at once, as doctors swarmed to the door with Father Hux, who jingled his keys into the lock – the Sister realised that she was nothing but his prey, but she only tip-toed all the way to his canines, and then coiled upon his velvet tongue. 

When the light begins to sink into the darkness of Kylo Ren's opened cell, there is a fleeting moment where Eve fears nothing but the ginger priest who opens the cage, only that feeling evaporates faster than summer rain on tarmac, as Kylo Ren comes into the light with a foul snarl, and lunges at the mouse.

Hands are wrapped around her neck and with a force, the back of her skull blows _accidentally_ into the wall behind her. She can feel the pressure flood from the bumped bruise, and wash all throughout her body with faintness. Her eyelids are drooping slowly, leaden with dullness, despite the panic which is trying to take control of her body, but losing the fight.

Eve can feel an emptiness in her slow-beating heart, a shear nothingness that somehow, smothers her lungs more than his tight strangle does, and threatens to consume her soul of treachery entirely. 

As she stares at Kylo's twisted, daunting expression of violent menace – she's overwhelmed all over again as if this was all new, fresh and blistering raw. He held her gaze with almost a serene look on his dark face like he had all the time in the world... and the most blood-curling thing about this whole vicious situation, was that she _still_ wasn't scared of _him._

And that's when Father Hux's muffled, distant and quiet voice called out to the barbaric land in which Kylo Ren had savagely stolen her to, and called their home with one simple stare of cherished eyes. 

_"Again –"_ The priest grumbled beneath his breath as he rolled his fingers over the set of keys and forced his pale hands into tight fists, as two unfamiliar doctors in white, stood by his sides.

Father Hux scowls, "Patient 727, if you do not take your hands off her, I guarantee you will be thrown into solitary confinement for much longer than three days this time."

She remarked that he made no move to even loosen his threatening grip around her neck, and soon enough she was seeing stars again – but not the dazzling, mystical dots that shine with the eventual first climax of sexual avidity, these stars were hallowed, weak and almost blistering into the clouds of her vision. 

Eve feels as if she had been sent back days, once again being strangled by Kylo Ren after committing great treachery of broken faith and wrongdoing – but for some unfathomable reason, she didn't think death was to come by Kylo's hands _– today –_ and that this _had_ to be part of whatever plan, he had set up in the wrangling of his tortured, sinister mind.

He just continued to stare at her, almost like he was cataloging her expressions. Brown eyes flicking across every imperfection, _and_ perfection of her timid expression, that was slowly sinking sapphire. The Father in the door-frame was apprehensive as he and two doctors stand stiffly-still as if they knew that if they made a single movement, the inmate would snap the Sister's neck.

A boulder of boiling loathing is playing ping-pong between Father Hux's stomach and heart as he watches the Sister writhe in Patient 727's hand – why she had taken the inmate to his cell _alone,_ was inscrutable, but he always presumed her to be untutored and almost _too_ innocent for her own good. _Bless her._

The priest shouted another warning, but it seemed to be falling deaf upon Kylo's ears as he secretly gave his Eve a wink, and a satisfied, devilish grin flashed upon his face, before he slowly used his other hand to stand with her still in his grip – but he gave her the benefit of releasing the pressure from her neck, and her knees began to wobble... although, she didn't know if that was because of the lack of oxygen going to her brain, or the painful emptiness now cramping in her still wet core.

It's the exact same position as the last time, only thankfully, Guard Roberts isn't here to point his _unloaded_ gun at the pair of sinners. Kylo's chains are no longer pinching her skin as it dangles beneath her collarbones, for Eve is thankful that she had managed to pull her clothes on before the Father and the two doctors walked in.

A cold chill swept across the cell, forcing goosebumps to rise all over everyone's body, but strangely not Kylo Ren's, nor Hux's – who were both stuck in a heavy stare-off, the same as two predators would stand their grounds as a damsel lays between their hungry stomachs. 

The two predators are ready to fight over their food, and it seems that poor Eve doesn't even realise how badly the pair of them are secretly starving and sharpening their metaphorical claws, only to sink them into her and devour – though, Kylo Ren _had_ left his marks beneath her drapes, where only one button seems to be pinned into the wrong hole. She hadn't noticed this yet... but Father Hux _sure_ did. 

Kylo Ren breathed into her neck, laughing like a madman as his dark eyes bored into the flames of the Father's hair,"You better take her away from me, _Father –"_

The patient shook her in his hands, making it seem as if she was trying to thrash against his grip – but she'd never detest to his warm touch, not even if he was scratching the blood out of her skin, _it seems._

Father Hux took a short step forwards, and the two doctors gave each-other a weary look – the one on the right, nodding to the syringe of sedation that was clipped into the left's chest-pocket, which was intended for the beast from the start... the three individuals just didn't assume that a _screaming_ young Sister was going to be in the room when they arrived.

A pale hand rose in the air between them, full of fake caution and assertion, "Mr. Ren, please let her go now and then we won't have to punish you." He lied.

Father Hux had come here to hurt Kylo Ren in the first place, it didn't matter if he had a reason to or not – the priest just hated the inmate, and the way he noticed how the Sister's eyes always lingered upon his shadows.

Kylo chuckled, his left fingers prodding into the pudgy flesh of her upper-arms, "I can't help myself, the little voice in my mind loves to hear a broad's shrilling scream. You know exactly what I like to do to pretty, innocent girls like her..." He sneers to the priest, then turning his face closer to Eve's and licking a stripe along her soft cheek. 

Father Hux's eyes narrow into perpetual fury. Kylo Ren's brighten with vexatious mischief. He shook the girl in his grip again, "– Especially when they try to fight against me."

For the eyes of only the Lord and the preacher, the Sister forced herself to wince as the heat of his damp tongue ran up her cheek, tasting the salt of her tears as the salt of his orgasm still lingers on the gums of her mouth. 

She had picked out hints, _here and there,_ but for the first time ever – Kylo Ren truely sounded insane, and he spoke as if he was the cruel killer who did vile things only because he enjoyed the slash of blood and guts... just like the tabloids wrote him to be – but a traitorous voice in the back of her mind, cackled and told her that he was _nothing_ like that. She heard it herself, he killed to save humanity.

_Eve's lost her fucking mind._

Her heart thudded, her skin flushed and she heard the cadence of sin ringing in her ears. _What is happening to her?_ The Sister feels no guilt for what she had done, but there is still something inside her that wonders how she had turned so easily to the dark void of tribulation and transgression. 

And it was all for Kylo Ren.

He had caught the eye of Eve, like the red apple in the green tree – right in reach of her extended, longing hand, which would pluck it from the stem for all the wrong reasons. Then, with one tender, juicy bite, Eve is hooked upon him for all the wrong reasons, just the same as the patients were addicted to whatever pills were placed in their morning cups. Perhaps, Kylo Ren was never the snake at all, he was indeed the red apple which ultimately exiled her from the Garden Of Eden, for his evilness was hidden in the sweetness, threatening her sanity, and even putting her mortal life in danger when the Lord in the clouds found out about her sinning.

It's sickening what he has somehow changed her into – but what is done, _is done._ Nothing else matters to poor Eve anymore, for God has already seen how her life is now based on treacherous morals – so there is no point in pretending to trick her soul into not pulling into his darkness, for she knows that she'd risk everything again, to be able to experience whatever he had just given to her. Kylo Ren was terrifying, yet thrilling... and he had awoken something from Eve.

"Let the Sister go, or else the doctors will sedate you like the hound that you are!" Father Hux finally lost his patience and screamed, his fury bouncing off the cell walls and down the empty halls – and then after that, there was nothing but silence.

Forced out of the trappings of her own endless thoughts, the Sister could hear her own heartbeat ringing through her ears and the heavy thuds only weighed down the loudness in her swirling mind. 

There was a new tension between them now, the pressure of Kylo Ren's rapid breath and anger falling to cinders from a once raging fire. Remarkably, he seemed to have calmed down the moment his stare flicked to the needle which was now held in the doctor's hand – and the man who belonged to the gripping fingers, was familiar from the time Kylo had been strapped to a table as bolts of electricity were sent into his messed-up brain. 

The scars still remained. A faint throbbing in each temple. A low, subtle ticking was beating inside his chest. His shackles were bringing cold burns upon his wrists. Guards boots were beginning to run down the hall, and though Kylo new that he was filled with poison and rage, he was only one man. He had to do whatever he needed to, before the guards came to beat him down again.

He let Eve go slowly, pushing her forwards and conceding, but not before saying with a tormenting sneer, "Fine –" He blowed, then turning his face to Father Hux, who now stared intently at the wrong button on her dress – Eve noticed and moved the cross of her rosary in-front of it. Hux moved his gaze back to Patient 727 just as the taller, more dangerous man said, "Have her... for my hands have been sunken in the lava of the infernal netherworlds, and I wouldn't wish to _burn_ her purity."

Kylo Ren can distinguish the flash of emotions upon Father Hux's face, quicker than he can feel the tickle of snide at the bottom of his throat and the scratch of pride in his guts. 

The priest is as evil as him – it's not so hard to tell, if you are one who has seen the real frenzied nature of hell. If Kylo was truely _insane,_ he would look through the stern demeanour and swipe away the tension of malevolence around the thinner, smaller man of the church and presume him to not be so straight-minded too, but the inmate purely thinks that there is no such thing as insanity for a mortal, there is merely just the devil's touch – and Father Hux may wash his hands in holy water every morning, but that will never clean the scars of the devil's imprint. 

Father Hux knows exactly what the patient is referring to – not even Eve catches on as she no longer can even feel the burn around her wrist... she can only feel Kylo's heat flying off her body as she nearly crashes into one of the doctors. 

The two men who held a fascination over the young angel, were still stuck in a deadly, silent stare – although, there seemed to be a screaming battle argument going on between their hardened glares. 

But then, as Father Hux's hands move to the cross around his neck, he turns his face to Eve and flicks his eyes back to her own rosary. His blood boils. 

Angels aren’t human – they are moulded by stone and crafted to the pristine perfection of soft clouds and holy graces. You can’t apply the same rules to them, you cannot punish an angel for that is a job only given to the Lord, _by the Lord._ Forgetting this could be a very dangerous thing, but Father Hux's jaw tenses when he sees the hint of red to her cheeks and truely notices the lack of veil around her head. _God,_ she's not an angel, she's a mortal – he remembers through the grog of adoration. 

The Sister is slipping and sliding toward immortality, losing her grace and bleeding from the wounds of clipped wings. Hux reaches out, brushing his long, cold fingers through the Sister's knotted hair, causing her to flinch when he roughly pulls through a knot, and then slides his fingertips down the side of her face.

Kylo Ren is ready to pounce at the gesture. He wants to bristle at the forwardness of the priests braggart – but he doesn't even move, yet. _Only move in silence, only speak when it's time to say checkmate._

The guards are close, their boots are thudding and their batons are slapping in their belts.

He's waiting for the right moment, he's watching the Father like a _damned_ vulture who leans across the branches and glares at the moving worms below.

And when the preacher's eyes quickly close with a lustful flutter, as knuckles secretly brush her abused lips – feeling the heat with reverie as the two doctors simply watch with perplexed eyes... that's the exact moment Kylo takes advantage of his delirious susceptibility, and strikes.

In one quick movement, the knife from earlier – the one in which Eve had purposely tried to leave in the dining hall before coming here, which Kylo Ren had ultimately picked right back up – is plucked from his deep pocket, fisted in his white, knuckled hand and whistling through the air as the crazed patient swings for Father Hux's pale, evil mask. 

Three guards had just made it to the doors, though the doctors were quicker than they were, and the one on the right had the reflex to quickly pull at the Father's shoulder, causing him to flinch and turn his face back to the inmate – giving him enough time to raise his hands in defence.

The blunt but still useful knife had enough force in Kylo Ren's power, to slice a deep and vulgar cut right across both palms of the preacher – but when it didn't pierce through the man's heart, Patient 727 snarled and only tried to stab him again. 

The guards moved in like a bulldozers which were tearing down a wall – almost shoving the doctors out of the way and pushing Eve to the floor, all to get between the condemned killer and the Father of White-Ivy. 

All the wind has been knocked out of Eve's lungs and she's left retching and gasping on the floor, not even noticing the way Kylo Ren is now thrashing in guard's hands like a mad-man – until the silver knife is dropped right in front of her wide, glazed eyes. 

Father Hux's hands are bleeding a rich scarlet, the same as the trickles that were painted from the palms of the hung Lord upon the cross of his church. 

Just like the day he was brought into the dining hall with bound hands and a vulgar attitude – Kylo Ren kicked and stabbed his feet through the air and into the ground, trying to throw himself free from the two guards who were already struggling to contain and keep him away from the priest who only stood in the doorway with a menacing gloom beaming down at his bleeding, agonising hands. 

Tears slicked Eve's cheeks, obstructing her gaze and causing her to choke when they ran through her lips and sat upon the dryness of her tongue. Her heart was hammering like a sledgehammer on her brittle, heaving ribs, threatening to break through and smash upon the cement ground for everyone to see the way it beats now for the dangerous, killer.

Kylo Ren spat through the air, the same as he had done to Eve but this time his fluids were laced with the poisonous hatred that swirled in his stomach – and it landed right on the cross around Father Hux's neck. 

The patient screamed, "So long as I walk this _damn_ world, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you die a slow and painful death, just as your puny Lord did!"

The Sister gasped, eyes instantly flicking up to the Father who she practically kneels around the feet of – only to find that he was already looking down at her, seemingly completely ignoring the patient's threat.

Like a _bitch_ of a dog – once again, Hux's hands lowered and moved through the Sister's hair, smearing his blood through her exposed locks, which were the colour of Father Hux's un-virtuous, kaleidoscopic dreams. 

Kylo Ren thrashed more violently, Eve shuddered, and Hux _smirked._

"Then, I supposeImust do something about that," He muttered below his breath, only to Eve who's body flushed as if hot gold had just been poured upon her skin, or like the way the tip of the lighter had scorched the flesh of her wrist. 

Father Hux turned his head to the doctor on his right, _"Sedate him."_

Fear returned to Eve, ricocheting upon every bone in her body.

"W-What? Father Hux, is that really necessary?" She cried, turning her eyes back up to him and knitting her brows together as sweat beads down her temples, "You said he wouldn't get punished if he let me go. This was my fault, I shouldn't have walked him to his cell alone."

Father Hux tutted and shushed her. 

Kylo Ren's velvety deep voice failed to work when a guard punched his throat, and the other kicked him to his knees – but for some unsolicited reason, Eve somehow knew that he was only letting them think they had the power and advantage over him. 

As his knees crashed to the ground, the Sister and the patient were now on the same level, and Kylo slightly raised his head, revealing the same pair of dangerous brown eyes that had been haunting her thoughts ever since he first laid them upon her.

He was handsome even despite his treachery and violent nature. Kylo Ren was a true, fallen angel – frighteningly so. The others looked at him, bewildered at his compliance as he continued to keep his stare trained on the Sister. They hadn’t yet recognised what they had missed, before they arrived – but Father Hux had his suspicions as his stinging hands coated her wet and knotted hair. 

Things were turning, changing. The life of grace and faith that she had attempted to not let slip through her fingers and the life that had ebbed with the passing of each day, was long gone now. 

She tried to plead with the Father to not punish the inmate, for it was _her_ fault that she had accidentally given him the possession of a knife with ignorance – but the preacher didn't even bother to listen to anything but the little, tantalising voice in the back of his head. 

He pulled his fingers harshly from her hair, causing her to whine loudly as he ripped knotted strands from her scalp. The boiling and hardened twist in Hux's stomach released like the opening of a birdcage, when the needle was stabbed into Patient 727's neck. He looked down at his bleeding, painful hands and smiled. 

It was only within seconds, the animal's eyes rolled to the back of his head and the rest of him fell limp by Eve's knees and the Father's leather shoes.

Her throat closed up and she turned her face away, accidentally pressing her cheek into Father Hux's thigh – who's wet, crimson hand only held her further against him. The back of her mouth ached with the threat of a sob. It seemed that no matter how much pleasure could be brought to her, pain only returned with a brutal vengeance.

Dreadful familiarly plucked upon her heartstrings as the doctors and the guards all worked to pull the sedated man to his feet, pulling him out of the cell where the priest still holds her kneeling frame against his legs – perhaps, there is a wasted youth in the holy bath of passion, and she was never supposed to feel such euphoria, for it only overdosed both her and Kylo Ren in the end, with malevolence.

There was a hollow ache in her core, and she was shaking as her nostrils burnt from the exorbitant scent of metallic and tangy blood which lingers in the air of the cell like a billowing cloud of polluted smoke, only it was smeared all across her body and now her cheeks too, painting her in the colour of a particular evil.

Eve feared that Father Hux somehow knew of what she had done, and that Kylo's portrayal of him bringing her into the cell only to harm her, didn't _trick_ him.

"Guards," The preacher suddenly called as he prodded his bloodied fingers between the dryness of Eve's parted lips. 

She cries. _He knows._ Dread ran through her as a soul-consuming shiver, though she doubted that she even had a soul anymore. Surely, it was swirling with all the other lost beings, in the nether-world of evilness. 

Hux smiles at the sound of her shame, and then turns to speak to the guard who had dropped the ankles of Kylo Ren to return back to the cell – slightly eyeing the way the Sister is kneeling by the Father's feet.

"Leave Kylo Ren in his solitary-confinement cell and leave the bed we prepared earlier empty for now. I will get to Patient 727 shortly." Hux said with a sly tone, to which the guard only nods at and tells the order to the other men behind the cell opening. 

There was silence for a moment. And in that space of time the priest's face twister, sharpened by a faithless war, hardened and strengthened, weathered by time, age and glory. 

A fallen angel was in his grasp, he mused – aware of just how uselessly sentimental she had become adorned to Kylo Ren. He didn't know just what she had done, just how far they had gone but the simple button on her drapes, which was slotted into the wrong hole, was enough to judge that there had been some flesh baring in the grotty cell of ungodly craze. 

It was easy, _oh-so-easy_ to take her into his arms now – she was weakened and scared, the only thing to do now is beg for forgiveness and Father Hux will certainly ensure she does a lot of begging in the darkness of his own solitude. To repent when no one was watching, perhaps not even God – that would fix her, but also fill the hungry void inside his chest. 

Father Hux held the Sister like a child, her cheek pressed to his thigh, his arm lingering around her trembling, sobbing shoulders. The priest held her for as long as she dared to sit unmoving against him as the tears sunk and flood into his clothes, feeling the heat of a promised fever rise from her damaged body which had crashed to hell, only for him to pull her right back out of. 

Fresh blood dribbled from the wounds in his palms. He was in pain, but nothing hurt him more than seeing one of his children root treachery into the garden of his own faith. 

Father Hux can no longer pretend that his own heart isn’t racing and that his loins are craving a touch of the hand which is curled into the fabric of his pants _innocently_. 

His mouth is dry, but he promises the hunger in his soul that it will soon be quenched. Father Hux looks down to the frightened, shivering, fallen angel and fails to shine a luminance of enlightenment, as he only gives her a dark, horrid stare – which like Kylo Ren's, deserved to be kept behind the bars of an inexorable cage.

He finally spoke to her, making sure to keep eye contact and smirking the whole time before painting a cross of scarlet upon her forehead with his own tangy, poisoned blood.

Her whole body had stayed frozen once again whilst his voice made shivers go down her spine. His words were like a heated caress but it tortured her insides with the cruel meaning behind them.

Though, the horrifying realisation and the strike to her heart wasn't electrified with fear this time, for Hux's words were not proven in the grace of care... but rather, lust. It had always been, but only now as she had seen the true conduct of sinful desire, she was able to pluck it out of the foolery of Father Hux's hidden darkness. 

_"Are you ready to repent your sins, my child?"_


	16. FIFTEEN

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Daddy Hux has arrived?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it took so long to update – I have been accepted into a literature and creative writing program and all my attention has been stolen by that because I am so scared that I am going to be dropped for not being good enough lol :(

On a fallen night, an angel has crashed from the theological heavens which were a place forever granted to her holy heart, until the moment she handed the bleeding beat with her God-fearing fingers, over to a nefarious man – whom even himself, wasn't sure if he was the wicked devil or carved to be another servant that had left an iniquitous horde to become nothing but an antichrist _and_ the eventual opposer against Satan, _too._

An ominous capture of smoke and smog, cloud around the brick building and slither through the forestry around. Snow was dropping from the sky as if the angels were sweeping the bleached softness of their clouds, down to the undeserving world below them. White-Ivy's grounds were submerged into a blanket of white, statues peeked out under chalked ice-flakes, and surviving _but_ browning grass crisscrossed each other around the labyrinth of courtyards. 

Snow was cold and destructive. There were no plants, no animals. The fresh breeze of a morning didn't exist anymore, and no longer did the moon shine with prosperity, for the gloomy fog was creating a barrier between its face and the land below – as if the heavens had finally shut their gates and turned their lights off for tonight. They no longer watched over their children, the treasured saints and spirits tucked themselves into bed and decided it was the time to rest after another day spent watching the servants sin. It's dark now and the snow is still falling, clumps of wet flakes drifting mindlessly down and the whiteness is pure – but the blood of treachery and misdeed is about to sink into the flakes of cleansed sanctify by the hands of a humble, powerful servant... who will _never_ pay for his own sins, for he rues them with the purge of many others, _in the name of God._

Liquid was falling in an abundance from the liquor bottle, and into Father Hux's kaleidoscopic tinctured glass which he had both brought from his office, before taking Eve down to the sanctuary – and his eyes only drank in the holy expatriate, who shivered and trembled in front of him with hands tightly bound with cuffs of cold metal and a snapped cross of a rosary, laying on the ground by her feet in the puddle of broken beads. 

It was a shame that the Father had to cleanse her soul, for she used to be so pure that it almost drove him crazy, wondering what her virginal lips could truely do – but with the ring of burn and passionate usage, lining the upper bow of her plush and inviting lips, Father Hux can easily tell that a filthy demon has adulterated her innocence, but not yet beyond his mending reprisal. 

Salty tears ran down the Sister's face, burning her skin and giving a slight pang to her head with each tear-fall – but she still stood bravely as the Father sat on the first aisle, almost sliding his knee between her shaking legs, for whatever punishment is to come, she deserves it. _Granted,_ she felt no remorse for giving her white virtue over to a black soul, but she cannot pledge that she does not fear the immortal, arduous damnation that would follow... and Eve wholeheartedly believes that there should be mercy given to those who strongly accept their punishments. 

It weighs on her conscience, but the exultation spent within the rough, but also tender moments with Kylo Ren, had become her soul's new sanctuary. It was a land without supreme demiurges and wretched creatures of darkness. It was a safe-haven away from all the death and destruction beneath her world's soil, and an inner sanctum hidden from the eye of the spirits, vindicators and vigilantes. Eve can almost smell Kylo as if he was _still_ close to her, only if it weren't for the retch-inducing tang of Hux's liquor in the air – and she can almost _still_ feel his lips pressed tenderly against her own, before he cracked his hand over her lips, to smash her porcelain once more before glueing it back together again and again. 

But as Father Hux watches her, Eve knew it was only a matter of time before her allegiance to Kylo Ren's carnal and erotic worshiping, no longer just cracks her porcelain viability, but send her falling to an immortal life of abyssal suffering... _though maybe, a life in torture could be tolerable if the devilish patient was by her side?_

She flinches at her own traitorous thought, and almost shakes her head. It had been a couple of tension-filled minutes, since their voices had rose above the sacred silence of nightfall – the Father and the Sister's last conversation being nothing but the supreme shouting in her face about her disheveled state, rumpled clothes and then snatching the rosary from her neck when she tried to disdain to his assumptions, which were all _somewhat_ correct – although the Father was yet to figure out that the Sister had gone far enough with the patient, leading to her ruined chastity. Father Hux knows that Patient 727 had laid his hands upon her naked flesh, and perhaps his lips... but like all souls in White-Ivy, he was ignorantly blinded by his haughtiness and never conjectured that anyone could long for the timid Sister, _as much as he secretly did._

His thin lips parted into an evil grin as he swirled his the brown liquid at the bottom of his crystal clear glass. The shackles around her hands are the metal ones in which he used for all sinners, and as she tries to find relief from the tight cuff which is digging into the opened burn upon her wrist, Hux can only hope that the reflection in the silver will show her the faces of her demons. 

Father Hux was waiting, his voice still hoarse from his previous shouts at her – but with one last gulp on his drink, the preacher sets his empty glass beside the bottle in which he had brought, and then crosses one of his legs over the other and nods to the Sister. 

Eve dared to take a peak at her supreme reverend, but as she met the gaze of ice and tarnished corrupt – all her mind could see was the twin eyes of iniquity and sharp, predatory teeth blinking at her with ferocious expectations as the Father simply uttered, "You may begin."

Immediately, the Sister drops to her knees – the bones almost smashing upon the floors of the sanctuary and her chains only hitting the bruises that form upon the flesh of her legs. Hands pressing together beneath her chin, she intertwines her fingers together in the notion of a prayer, but her face only lifts towards the Father, not the head of the cross which hangs behind her clipped wings. 

There was nothing logical about this. Nothing felt tangible nor explainable anymore. Her mind was running wild, _so-much-so,_ Eve would presume she too, is crazy. Maybe this life isn't real, maybe she is already kneeling in the trappings of hell, and the ginger man who sits in front of her, with the toes of his leather shoes almost clipping her chin – is just another servant of the devil, or a ruler driven by the delusions of deity. 

Eve swallows the dry lump in her throat, almost feeling as if she was choking on the shards of her broken promises and faith. She forces her trembling lips to move, "Bless and forgive me, Father – for I have sinned." 

The chapel in which Hux had watched his own father build with his calloused hands, was the picturesque of holy elegance. Beautiful angels were standing in bowing and kneeling statues all around the cross in the centre, and gold lined the walls with dignity. The carpets were still the richly red of pure scarlet, the same tincture as the blood which leaks through the layers of sterilised cloth which he had forced the Sister to wrap around the wounds of his palms, caused by the blade in which she had left the patient in possession with – but he didn't mind the sting so much, what truely bothered him was the _smell._

It reminds him of the men who would walk through the gates of his home, in combat boots, rifles on their backs and flags upon their hearts, which they fought for. His father took care of the injured men who bled and died in the halls of White-Ivy, more than the man had taken care of his own son. It was the duty given to his father by the Lord – Hux understands this now, but every once-and-a-while, when he catches the tangy scent, it reminds him of days spent with nobody but corpses and the spirit in the sky to talk to.

Father Hux rolled his tongue around his mouth and across his ivory teeth as he stared down at the young girl with cold-hard eyes. The fire from his whisky is subduing the pain in his hands, but there is no escaping the hunger in his soul.

"And what do you confess are your sinful misdeeds?" He questioned, his pale eyes almost darkening to a lifeless grey.

A sharp feeling strikes the Sister's beating heart.

"I–" She opens her mouth to speak, but falls silent shortly after. Hux noticed immediately the way her shoulders stiffened as her mind tried to sort through all the possibilities and outcomes from the many answers she held. 

But she couldn't tell the Father everything. She couldn't confess the true slaughtering significance of all her sins, for the consequences would be both brutal to her, _and_ Kylo Ren. 

The Sister had never been one to lie, but what does one more sin matter to the everlasting, rising mountain of transgressions in which she plants the waving flag of her defeat upon the top of?

Tears stung the corners of her eyes, and darkened her soggy eyelashes, "I accuse myself of shedding my clothes for Patient 727, for I was fearful of my life if I did not." She said, leaving out the majority of her truths and replacing it with a lie.

Father Hux's eyes are scanning every inch of her trembling body – and in cuffs, she looks the same as a wasted youth with insanity, which he would usually lock behind bars and in cages.

Her stare never leaves his, and it is as if Eve can sense something loitering beneath the sapphire blue, something dark and deeply rooted into the malevolence that spurts evil in his growling stomach. 

Hux would have to admit – he had never been distracted by someone, so easily before. The ginger man lived a life limited only for the worship of his God and church, but when he looks at the Sister, deep into her eyes... he sees something that is almost, _haunting._ Something that has taken a hold of his existence and leaves it wanting to kneel in reverence to _her_ glory instead. 

Father Hux is eloquently captured by her, and though her ignorance clouds her judgment, he still doesn't hide it as well as he would like to. 

It's like he needs something from the Sister, and Hux is only intrigued to find what it could possibly be, that he is lacking without her. She's impossibly innocent, and she would be beyond demure if it weren't for that bastard down in the eastern-ward. 

Kylo Ren thinks that he can try to take what the Lord has gifted to Hux as a reward for his mortal services, and though the demon has damaged her purity – Father Hux can only look at her brokenness, and think about all the _cruel_ ways in which he could fix her.

The pale supreme, took a deep, shuddering breath before blinking slow and speaking with a casual tone of authority, "Did Patient 727 request that you free yourself from your garments and show him your most vulnerable form, in which God has given to you?"

The burn upon her wrist, reminded her of the savagery that was possessing the soul of the preacher – to which she can only think about what he would do to Kylo, if she said anything that could result in a more barbaric punishment, than the electrotherapy which sourly scorched the patient's temples.

Eve could almost _hear_ the eyes of all the angels, snapping open and their screams singing down to her with their pointed fingers, once again calling attention from all the saints to her sinful nature. Their shouts of expulsion and bids for exile are the same as one who be stoned as they walk out of the town in which they had been banished from – the Sister's own imagination was combining the souls of the departed with the deathly scream of her old faith, and together, they echoed exquisitely across the painted clouds of the high ceilings. 

"N-No," She shook her head, tears now falling once again down her cheeks.

Father Hux raised a brow, "Then, why did you take off your veils and clothes, Sister?"

There was another moment of utter silence as the clinging fingers of her dying soul, began to claw upon her insides as the hooded-veil of immorality pulled it down to the depths of hell. 

Again, Eve opens her mouth to say something, anything, that will get rid of the brittle silence that's suddenly become uncomfortable and leaves answers for the preacher to only find in the empty air with a sense of foreboding.

She dipped her chin down to her knees and began to lie again, but when Father Hux's fingers only reached back out to her and lifted her eyes back to his own, her skin chilled cold at his touch – though it only fuels the spark in the Father's veins like static.

"Because... he frightened me, and I read in the paper that the patient liked to toy with his victims. I-I thought that perhaps, I was buying myself time, Father." She whispered, her fingernails curling into her palms and digging into the flesh.

Hux tilts her chin a bit higher, and with the expanse, he greedily eyes the blotches of purple just peeking above the high, black collar of her drapes. 

"And _that_ you did." He muttered, then flicking his eyes harshly back to her's and narrowing them, "Did you touch him?"

Eve's gaze began to burn again, hot tears trickling down her cheeks endlessly as a traitorous sob escaped up her tight throat and through her loose lips. The heat of her blood which sinks beneath her nails, almost reminds her of the warmth that she was brought when she dug them into Kylo Ren's back.

She could feel the Father's grip only tighten just before then bushing the bone of her wobbling jaw – and when his fingers only drew her closer, causing her to place all her body weight on her knees as Hux pulled her closer to his own lips, she panicked. 

The Sister tried to turn her face away, but the man held all the power over her with one simple hold and with the cuffs he had chained around her wrists, despite her pleads for him not to. 

"No," She lied, _again._

Just as the memory of Kylo Ren thrusting into her core, which is sore and used as she kneels on the ground, flicks through her head – Father Hux laughs, and it is sharp and sour, so sardonic the Eve _swears_ that she's never heard it before, especially from someone as sane as the preacher was supposed to be. 

He leans in, so close that the Sister can feel his breath spill over his pink, thin lips and see all the shades of pale grey and blue that thrash together in the oceans of his eyes. 

"Then, did _he_ touch you?"

Her eyebrows raise, just to drop right back down to her wide eyes instantaneously. Eve tries to fight against it, but there is no stopping the rise of pink in her deliciously soft cheeks and she isn't sure what to say, but the silent killer of demise is lingering in the air again, and only becoming more violent with every race of her heart beneath her crumpled dress. 

The Sister is left like a fool – stumbling and stuttering incoherent words, but not saying either the truth or pronouncing another deceit. Her lungs are tightening as if Kylo Ren is still strangling her, almost willing her with the notion that he would be telling her to lie to save herself again, like he had told her to scream to only get himself in trouble. 

Skin prickling with apprehension, the Father keeps his eyes always upon her face, but she is now refusing to look back at him – simply burning holes in the ceramic statues at the far end of the sanctuary. 

"Speak." The Father ordered. 

Panic began to crawl up her guts and the demand drew another whimper out of her throat. The Sister still remained silent, but her mind was screaming as it clouded so densely with _fright_ that the only way she was able to express herself was with a mumbled plea.

_"F-Father..."_

His hand which was wrapped around her chin, shook her face forcefully and Eve whined when his long fingers dug painfully into her cheeks again, only to then slither up and to her quivering lips. 

She closed her eyes and the tears fell like the snow from the heavens. 

Trembling, the Sister obeyed and two fingers went into her mouth, dragging along the heat of her tongue and causing saliva to drool down her chin.

A voice in the back of her head, which reminded her faintly of Kylo Ren's rough tone, told her to bite hard down on Father Hux's fingers – but all Eve did was retch and sob around them. _She was doomed._

Panic was pricking her stomach in knots like a thousand needles poking her from inside. His fingers tasted faintly of blood and liquor, causing a disgusting linger to remain upon her tastebuds as he pulls his digits out suddenly, giving her enough time to open her eyes to catch the sight of his twisted face and then that same hand of wet fingers, cracking across her cheek – sending her bound hands and body crashing to the ground with the force of the blow. 

"He did!" Father Hux screamed, now standing to his feet and walking over her body to only pull her head up roughly with a tug on her veil, "And you only let him, didn't you?!"

Landing on the links of her cuffs, the bones of her ribs bruise immediately and leave her a little breathless. When Eve looks back at Father Hux, his pale eyes have brightened and his mind has wired electrically, lips curling to bare the wicked grin of teeth. 

The Father kneels to the ground, his Kees clicking just as a shudder runs up her spine. He looks almost anomalous, but when the Sister opens her mouth to answer him, the Father takes the opportunity to lick heat against it, his lips crashing to her's only quickly – lacking the passion that Kylo's kisses bring.

Eve tries to not scream into his mouth – the taste of his tongue poisoned by whisky and her lips, laced with the salty tang of... _her tears._

There was once a time where she was candid on the idea that Kylo Ren could have been the most wicked, merciless monster loitering the halls of White-Ivy as if they were the waiting station to hell. But now as she tries to push against her own weight, and Father Hux's to escape his stiff excuse of a kiss, Eve realises just how wrong she was.

New treachery is serenading the scars and bruises upon her darkening soul and as the Father's hand only pushes her closer to him, his fingers are almost cold enough to sink the chill through her veil and claw her skin like another painting of true violence, which seems to be in the nature of all from White-Ivy – but the ruler and the owner of the manor, seemed to be the most cruel out of them all. 

And unlike Kylo Ren, Eve was _actually_ scared Father Hux. 

The pale, ginger man felt as if heaven's gates had been opened. His fingers are stroking the back of her head like weightless feathers, which she no longer has plunged into her back – but he will sew them back into place overtime. 

The heat he's been anticipating from her mouth starts to thaw out his blood, and that's exactly when he pulls away – not wishing to sin with greed. 

Pulling away, he feels dazed for just a moment and wants Eve's pretty, trembling mouth back on his but he still needs to hear what she has to say, before the twitch of his hands rips the veil from her head and teaches her a lesson.

Lifting her slowly up, his arms were enforcing Eve in an almost tight embrace, pulling her to his chest and letting her tears sink into the fabric upon his right shoulder. Her insides were churning and she wants to spit his taste over his back as his breath was hot against her cheek. 

She's an absolute mess and she's shaking like a fragile leaf in his arms but Father Hux only sighs and flutters his eyes closed as if this was all he has ever wanted. 

Each ghosted caress along her back, made her hold her breath and her chest tighten as if she was wearing one of those straight-jackets that many patients wore. At the sound of his pleased sigh, bile rose up in her throat but she only swallowed it back down to the acid of her flipping stomach. 

He whispered in a dangerous voice, dipped in sadistic fondness and adoration, right into her ear, "Did you _allow_ the inmate to touch you, Sister?" He asked again, never willing to give up. 

He allowed her to pull out of his hands, but his fingers still lingered around the chain between her wrists. The Sister was as bound as an inmate, as trapped as a bird in a cage. As she looks through the grog of her tears, she suddenly realises that no matter what, she doesn't think that she will ever leave this place alive.

The wound upon her wrist, digs into the cuffs when Father Hux pulls lightly on it, and Eve winces as she finally speaks again – her words not giving a straight answer, but they both knew what the outcome meant, "Forgive me, Father."

_Again, there was nothing but the sound of silence._

The rattling of her chains and sobs, awoke something treacherous inside of Father Hux. Eve's eyes were wide and fearful, as she only watched his own change from the stormy sea, to a vanishing of a dark and stormy night. All the evil inside the man's soul, was growling and gnawing together, the vision of Kylo Ren's hands running down her bare body, burning like an omen in his mind. 

Hux's brows went up and he scowled at his disobedient _pet,_ "You're a filthy whore." He spat out the last word in utter disgust, suddenly grabbing her by her throat and pulling her down aisle, closer to the exit but only stopping right in front of the holy water font. Eve gasped against his strangle and struggled to not drop to the carpet as he dragged her along. 

She clawed pathetically at his hand, but in all truth – she was too weak to even put up a fight. Her limbs felt like they jelly, whilst also weighing the same as if her bones were made out of cement. Father Hux stood tall, his shoulders strong and straight as he wore that same scowl that he always did, upon his face whilst he watched her scratch at his wrist and then her chest, gasping for air. She looked the same as she did when he had walked in on Patient 727 strangling her, only her eyes were more glassy and fearful. She couldn't scream, but she coughed as if the water from the bowl was suddenly filling her lungs.

Father Hux's tight lips turned into a shameless smirk. Pale fingers dipped into the water and then joined the other hand that held Eve up, and _just like_ he had done in the cell a few hours ago, Father Hux draws a cross upon her forehead, using only the water of sacred oaths, instead of his bleeding, sardonic blood. 

His grip loosens, and she heaves inward air, spurting up spit and sobs. Eve's breath upon Hux's face felt something close to a summer breeze, and he closed his harsh eyes to enjoy the sensation as he ran his hands now down her shoulders. 

"Your sins have brought shame to your path of enlightenment, and the indication of sins must be cleansed from your skin and soul." He muttered quietly, but even over her ragged breathing, Eve heard every word. She cried with a scrunched face, hiding her eyes behind the darkness of her closed lids and listening, and feeling every single beat of her heart which was pounding against her chest.

She was scared – _God,_ she was terrified. 

Luckily, she was still alive and not yet falling down to hell, but her carcinogenic body didn't have the strength to fight against the man who was the only one who claims that he was pulling her out of the deadly depths. She opened her eyes, and found that Hux was once again looking back at her – Eve wanted to laugh, but she also wanted to fall to her knees and perish. The Sister was almost delirious, and perhaps, that's just a factor of fear... _maybe, nobody is truely insane, they're just terrified of the world they live in?_

His grip around her upper-arms tightened and she flinched again as she spoke, _"Cleansed?"_

Father Hux only nodded slow. The Sister held her breath, daring not to make another sound as his icy eyes flicked all across her face, watching the cross of water, slowly sink into her soft skin. Each second seemed to last an eternity as she stands perfectly still in his hands, listening to only his words now, which had muted the pounding of her pulse. 

"Sister, does your faith still rest in the hands of the Lord?" He asked. 

_No._

Even if she wanted to, Eve can only imagine the way that the Holy Spirit would crunch it into a ball with His hands and carelessly throw it back over the edge of the promised land amongst the clouds.

The Sister nodded to the Father.

"Of course."

Father Hux had to force his breathing to deepen, for he seemed to subconsciously copy her own shallowed respiration. Blinking slow, he focused on the burning fire of pure anger which rage inside of him, searching through the dust and embers that caught alight from the feelings he held for the Sister. 

He leaned in close, his mouth near her covered ear which sat beneath her veil along with the soft hair that he had painted with his own blood, before. There was strong irritation in his conscience for the young girl, after what she had done for another, insane man – and the anger only danced with the demons in his soul. 

"The Lord has whispered in my ear, and he has told me exactly how to regain your purity." He said.

She shuddered, her lips speaking against the cloth of his collar, "What did the Lord tell you, Father?"

He leans back out from her, but there is still little space between their faces and for a short moment, Eve frets that he is about to kiss her again.

"That you _must_ trust me."

He hears Eve's gasp, even though it never escaped her lips. It was strange that such a soft sound is audible over the blood rushing in his own head.

She's wringing her hands together, unsure – cuffs are chafing raw against the skin of her wrists. Once again, her mind is screaming, and though she doesn't really know what her instinct is telling her what to do, her skin is still reacting as if her bones want to jump right through it and flee. 

When Father Hux moves his left hand back to her cheek, Eve's breathing begins to rise, shallow huffs of air that leave through the flare of her nose, so quick that she's not even sure if she's breathing at all. 

The Sister was pulled back by the sound of Father Hux's voice, still straightforward and smooth just like it always is, "Do you trust me, Sister?"

There's a pressure building in her chest, it's heavy and it aches like there's a vice inside winding her morality tighter and tighter, crushing her with a force that makes the natural rise and fall of her lungs difficult to execute.

"Y-Yes." She nods, lying once again. 

_And the man knows she was, too._

He leaned his forehead upon her's and closed his eyes, "Blessed is this union – for these and all the sins that a demon has forced from you, I ask pardon from God, penance, and absolution."

The ginger man is growing recklessly fond of the irremediable woman. Like Kylo Ren, he means no harm, nor does he desire to be the wicked influence in attempts to bring her back to the light – but Father Hux prays to his Lord, that by the end of his coming punishing, the beautiful but ignorant Sister, understands just why he cared so much about her, and maybe even grows fond of him, too – for the Lord will be willing to turn a blind eye to their own affair, if they continue to heal the deadly sins of the wickedness around their glory.

Infatuation, as Hux knows, is a deeply flawed thing – but he had never been captured by an angel like the Sister before. He could even say that, he loves her... but the devil is only watching over the pair right this minute, and Satan has to laugh for he knows that the preacher's love is only a conformity of possession, submitted into the man's delusion that he can commit atrocities, for he also slays the devil's slaves, day to day – and that's his _reward._

"Angel –" He cooed, feeling her tense at the indecorous pet-name, "Beg for forgiveness and say five Our Fathers for your penance."

She nodded against him, and swallowed before speaking softy – somewhat calmer now, that it seems there is no cruel punishment to come.

"... My God, I am heartily sorry for having offended Thee and I detest all my si–"

Her tender moment of clarity and calm, came to her too soon. 

In one quick motion, Father Hux had used his other hand to push Eve's head by the skull, right into the bath of holy water in the font right by the entrance, sending liquid to splash over the sides as her nose smashed against the shallow ceramic and her airways choke and drown in what was left. 

Shackled hands pressing around the sides, Father Hux held no sympathy as he smirked to the wondrous sounds of her bubbling, suffocated screams from beneath the water. Nails bleeding and chipping as she claws on the edge of the bowl after wailing them around, her lungs are tightening painfully, and as dots begin to fill her vision beneath the liquid, her body forces her chest to breath in and the cold water only rushes into the hallowed space, where her faith should be buried. 

The Sister was trying her best to thrash around, but the only thing that was escaping was puddles of holy water, which were dripping down the sides of the bowl. Her veil is soaking in the water, but not enough to sponge out enough to suck in air instead of the blessed souse.

His treacherous, lingering thoughts of love, feelings of deep desire, sacrifice and salvation – will have to wait. He's cleansing his dirty angel, he's ridding her from her sins and impurities. The holy water is sinking into her lungs and cleaning the burn of the demon's tongue from her mouth, and to only find some sick pleasure out of her vulnerability – the Father slowly presses his hips against her bent frame and runs in other hand down her spine. 

Hux only lets her win in the fight, once – allowing her to lift her head enough for her blue lips break the surface, gulping in tense, poisonous air, only for the hand at the back of her head to smash her back into the ceramic again violently, and with another slosh, she is drowning under the shallow water once more. Foolishly, the Sister only uses all the oxygen she had gained, to scream another round and gag on the water that she chokes on.

The Father begins to pray, but she cannot even hear him begging the Lord for pardon of her sins, and pleading for her own forgiveness. 

The panic has her heart hammering against her ribs. Nobody is looking, the angels have gone to sleep and the Lord is blindfolding himself, for the Father is doing what is best for her impure soul. All illusions of surviving are gone. Soon the oxygen deprivation takes away her thoughts while her brain begins to shut off – but still, every cell in her weak body is screaming for oxygen, making her feel as if she wasn't in control of her vessel. 

The Sister's groggy eyes are fluttering closed as the emptiness inside her chest, begins to anchor her life down. Her conscience begins to fall like Lucifer once fell from the heavens. Her inner entity is falling further and deeper into the darkness of dangerous nature, until the hooded veil of death, threatens to take her hand and bring her to the place in which her sinful soul belongs.

But suddenly, when the evil priest utters one last word after his torturous prayer, he lifts her head out of the bowl and sends her limp body, crashing to the crimson carpet.

The Sister breathes inwards as if she has never tasted or consumed oxygen before, sinking her chattering teeth into the dense tension in the air. Her skin was a deadly blue, her cheeks lacking the soulful colour upon them, and her lips almost non-existent. Tears could have been deliciously running down her face, but the holy water was washing all degradation from her body. 

Just when she was filled up on air, was when the water that she had choked on, sloshed relentlessly in her unsettled, terrified stomach of acid – and in a heartbeat, she vomited all the water back onto the carpet, gagging and heaving multiple times when her stomach kept tensing but there was nothing left to churn. 

Eve whimpered and sobbed an ugly cry, the agonised scream that could resemble one from a small, soiled child. Though, the Sister was no longer drowning, her body was still reacting as if it was. She was breathing hard, taking in the oxygen greedily and feeling dizzy when she almost overdosed on it. 

The Father stood above her shackled, thrown frame. She was riddled with pain, but clean of sin. He smiled down at her. 

Eve looked back up at him with a look of absolute abhorrence, her foggy eyes staring into his own demented gaze.

The cross hung around his neck, shines in the moonlight that slithers through the kaleidoscopic tinctures of the adorned windows behind her – and as she shakes and writhes upon the floor, with her shackled hands as if she was a crazed inmate of White-Ivy, she runs her frail fingers up her chest and upon her ribcage to feel her heart beating in her hand, just to ensure that she truely wasn't dead already – for this must be some form of hell. 

_Hell –_ that was the fierce and finalising word, the commination to threaten children if they were too bad, the mumbling to send shivers down the spine of a praying believer. The place where evil lurked with the fiery demon's, whose barbed tails coiled and snapped, where whips were sharp in their hands as their horns were pointed like knives thrusting from their heads, wings reaching far and wide to swallow the mortal that dare stand before them.

But all at once, Eve can still feel the devil's territory living in her mind, and she realises that she fears a man more than the undertakers – for whatever demon stands above her just now, is the most deadly creature she has ever come across. And the way he keeps his _true_ face of sanguinary, hidden from the ghosts in the halls, and the eyes of the mortals surrounding him... _is the most unsettling_ _chicanery and_ _deception granted_ _in the sanctuary of the cross, tonight._

The dark world had forced Eve into becoming someone that no longer felt anything, it wasn't her choice to become so empty, so devoid of empathy, it was just that she was _too_ tired from abuse, that she no longer wished to even fight against the wrath. The Sister had become a survivor by giving away parts of her soul, so the pain was now relief and what was wrong and right didn't make sense – but she is still trying to find what lives in the in-between of holy, and unholy. _  
_

Eve's seen the devil in sheep's skin, and he wears the mask of the Father of White-Ivy Penitentiary, who speaks with a tone of praise as he gives her one last, antagonising word...

_"Amen."_


	17. SIXTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lmaoooo... I wrote this whole chapter and then accidentally deleted it. So – here's the subpar, inferior version to what I had originally written :/

Not even the dawn of a new day, can kindly bring peace.

It was a quiet morning, one where the clouds diffuse the daylight to a bleak and suffocating grey as they move like the waves of an ocean through the white sky, sending a melody of spitting snowflakes towards the surface of mortal treachery below – today, everything was too bright for her glassy eyes, and the icy-chill that loitered the hallways of White-Ivy, was numbing her fingers and brain. 

Eve stands by the entrance, the cold air creeping through the cracks in the windows, pressing up against the stiffness of her cheeks, and swirling amongst the dazed look in her eyes which had a ring of grey sinking below the colour.

As she waited for the arriving patient, who needed to attend the front reception to fill out paperwork regarding letters _– which nobody would ever write to him –_ Eve's mind kept filtering through all that had happened, since the day she first walked through these two, oak-wood doors.

Her lips were quivering low, and sinking down to the wobble of her chin – but the Sister made sure to hide it from the face of the marble Virgin Mary, who stares at her from the middle of the foyer. Such a tangible display of indignation, risked further retribution.

Even something as small and subtle as a lonesome tear, could result in more pain – and Eve was tired of and burdened with immoderate slays of torture, leaving her timid and fearful of the next strike from God and his servants... _especially the head of this manor._

She kept fleeing from the alters hidden in the corners of her brain, where her survival still drops to its knees and begs her soul to stay in the light, for enlightenment _must_ guarantee safety. But no matter how many hours she spent last night, regaining all of her harsh breath and dropping to the cold floors of her quarters, with interwoven fingers and a mouth that whispered silently, she knew that nobody could believe her begs for forgiveness, because she didn't even trust herself.

 _Although,_ tragically – there is now a slumber of strained abashment which wakes whenever she thinks about the patient that caused her to feel so conflicted.

Eve wasn't afraid of Kylo Ren, despite the shadows that followed him and the path that he had taken her on, with a forceful tug and enticing words – but she was absolutely petrified of the Father, who loathed the patient, and brutally punished the Sister whenever she deserved, for she was ignorant for never fearing the condemned demon, _in the first place._

But still, like always and through the trudge of regret and penance, she was not scared of Kylo, even when he was brought, shackled and bound, down the hall – but strangely, he didn't walk with his shoulders back in that confident way he always swayed, but instead, he was moved by a wheelchair that was directed by the hands of a guard behind him.

His face was ghostly pale, but he forever held a smirk when he caught sight of his angel, hiding behind the statue of Virgin Mary. His feet were bare from shoes, his toes feeling the closest hint of freedom, when he curled them at the soft hit from the air outside, which crept through the gap in the barred windows of the entrance behind Eve.

She wore her freshly ironed and washed, drapes and veil – but Kylo Ren noticed the bland gap upon her chest, as she was missing her beads and rosary.

A tight feeling rose in her chest when their eyes met. She was beyond stressed, the most stressed she's ever been – and the fact that the devil himself, would visit her both in her dreams, and then _day-to-day,_ was taunting her and almost causing her to go delirious, whenever she felt the urge to take a step closer to him, meeting him only halfway and then onwards to wherever his dark soul wished to take her.

She hates being in this place, it's like a stagnant holding where she is either being pulled by Father Hux, or Kylo Ren – it is a tiresome battle, a constant fight between the light and the dark. It's here in White-Ivy, where her last shred of hope died the moment Kylo Ren only asked her to be his, and now she's completely strung on him – but too jaded to rekindle any of that hope now, despite the fact that the preacher has literally tried to beat it back into her, and then warned her if she didn't change herself, he would only continue until he moulded her with his violent hands of blessed glory.

Life simply doesn't feel real anymore – the Sister feels as if she is stationed in the middle ground, a land where she waits with a declining number which will eventually ring and force her to where her destiny lies in hell.

Eve bites down on her lower lip as she felt her eyes begin to burn and sting with the threat of more rising tears, and she moved her veiled face away again when she felt the heat also rise to her cheeks.

Breathing out a shaky breath to try and calm her down, the memories of loosing her virtue to the patient flicked through her mind like the pages of a torn-up bible – but her thoughts were only cut off when the thin tires of the wheelchair, skidded to a halt beside her and the bored, pudgy guard spoke.

"Scream if he tries anything." He mumbled to the Sister, then cocking a brow to the patient bound and humorously vulnerable below him. The guard chuckled, " – Though, I doubt he has the capability to even move."

"Thank you, Sir." She mumbles to the guard, who then shrugs and walks away after pulling out a cigarette and lighting it further down the hall. 

It seems that no matter how many times the pair of sinners get punished, the mortals never realise that in order for them to carry out their sins, they tend to need to be left alone – Eve only knits her brows together at the idea and swallows around the lump in her throat.

The sound of thunder is deafeningly thudding. It roars not from the sky but from her beating heart. Not looking him in the eyes, she watches the patient in her peripherals and wonders for a shattering second, if Father Hux had tortured him so brutally, that he could no longer use his spine or legs, _anymore._

A half-breath later and the sky through the high glazed windows has gone to pitchy black but that's only because her vision only lightens up the man that she then turns to. Kylo Ren's already gazing up at her, his dark eyes laced with so much lightning that his adoration seems to shine like bolts, which flicker and spark his blood to a warm heat whenever he's around the Sister.

But she no longer looks the way she did, _only yesterday._ His Eve was always a shy and reticent, little thing – but as she towers over him for what seems like the very first time, she's almost blankly withdrawn. Her eyes no longer hold a fight of willingness, instead they look darkened and sad, as if she had lost the battle and was left with nothing at all.

Kylo's eyes widen in disbelief and concern. His Eve has been the picture of serene elegance and always stood her ground, no matter what internalised conflict he was causing intentionally in her soul – and the shock of seeing her in such a timorous and withdrawn state, is the first thing that makes his smirk falter.

"Eve." He whispers. 

She tenses at his calling, and then thinks back to the pet-name in which the covetous, Father Hux – had given to her last night, after kissing her egregiously and before he drowned her in the sink of holy water... and for a split second, the Sister cannot seem to shake the feeling that these two men, seemed to be so much like each-other – but also, nothing alike at all.

_"Kylo..."_

When she said his name back, Patient 727 could hear something wrong in her tone, whilst an alien and terrible expression flinched upon her her face with only a second's glance. He curled his hands around the tires of the wheelchair, anger bubbling in his chest – for he _just knew,_ that the cruel priest had done something to her, just as he had done agonising things to him.

But she was the first to speak the question, when her eyes ran down his bent frame and stared at his bare, pale toes.

"What happened to you?" She whispered, then flicking her eyes to the empty reception area, _hoping that it stays that way._

Kylo Ren's ego shrivels slightly in his chest. His psychiatrist had labelled him many of things since he had been caught and shackled for his crimes, but they will never quite strike him as much as the child-therapist's epithet when he was freshly twelve, wedged between his parents who were grievously coming to terms that their only child was a diagnosed sociopath.

It wasn't that big of a surprise though, Kylo Ren never cared for anyone's feelings, _let alone,_ his own. He often broke rules just out of boredom, and constantly made impulsive decisions without feeling guilty for the harm they caused – until eventually, the harm was all he ever craved.

But as of now, when he gazes up at Eve who has an angelic glow, haloing around the top of her veiled head, he felt something – and it isn't the tangible desire that he always carries, but something... _strange._

It sits in his chest like an explosion and the debris only soars through his blood and limbs, making even his numb toes tingle. The mere look of apprehension on her face, no longer pleases him, but makes him almost wish to get rid of it – and not with a slap like the devil on his shoulder tells him to, but rather with benignity.

Kylo Ren's losing his _fucking_ mind.

Never in his most precious nightmares, would he have imagined it. Eve seems to be on the verge of breaking, and for the first time, Kylo Ren will not be the one to push her just over the edge to watch her shatter. 

_Not yet, at least._

Kylo forced a coy smile to rise back upon his face, and then kicked his foot out to show her his _sole._

Eve gasped and took a small step back.

"Nothin' important," He said with a rasp of sarcasm, trying to ignore the incongruity going on behind his casual grin, "– Still got my wits, and I still got my good looks." He chuckles, despite the fresh blood that seeps out of the crusted cuts in on the bottom of his feet.

Eve's guts twisted. From his heels, all the way to where his toes begin, was a long and deep cut that was stabbed and dragged into his flesh. It was a gruesome cut, almost as rough and brutal as the scar across his face – but the most unsettling thing about it, was that it was skilfully purposeful, and it was engraved into his skin as the shape of the cross that the Lord was hung upon.

Even when he lowered his foot back down to the metal levels of the wheelchair that he sat in, reasonably – the Sister could still see the crosses of blood and agony, as if it was burnt behind the colour of her eyes and pupils.

And there was a voice carried behind it all, too – the voice of the man from last night, who made her skin crawl and her tongue, immediately notice a bad taste in her mouth.

 _"Then, I suppose I must do something about that..."_ Father Hux had said in the cell, yesterday.

Straight _after_ Kylo Ren had swiped his knife across his palms and threatened him with the shouts of, _"So long as I walk this damn world, I will do everything in my power to ensure that you die a slow and painful death..."_

A _c_ reeping awareness curls in the base of her beating heart, and she tries to get rid of it with a deep inhale, but there is no escaping the fraction of _undeserved_ guilt from haunting the young Sister.

Father Hux is another devil in disguise. Though, he may speak to his fellow worshipper's with holy and spiritual eloquence, and kneel beside his Brothers and Sisters – Eve cannot seem to forget that even Satan himself, was once an angel who lived in the paradise of the clouds made by God... the ginger man may wear a masquerade of devout, but his true actions are nothing but sinister.

Father Hux conquers all craze in his halls, but at a traitorous price. He steals the joy from the sun and faces below the shine, he kills the spirits in hearts, and destroys all beliefs, unless they are the faith of God – it is unfathomable, but the only question left unanswered is, _does he bestow such treachery alone, or the Lord is right beside him, pointing at the next target?_

The Sister shakes her head and gives a short, despairing sigh,"C-Can you walk?"

Three drops of blood tap upon the polished floor. Kylo Ren chuckles, but of course – shakes his head.

"Not unless you follow me with a mop." He chimes, still not pointing out the obvious caution that she carries.

But then, suddenly – she pauses for a second, as if she is deeply thinking. His Eve chews deliciously on her pretty bottom lip, almost ripping the delicate skin to shreds as she considers the pain upon his feet for a second, wondering if anyone has even tended to his wounds – which she ultimately doubts.

She swallows roughly and turns her head to the doors, which lead to the front _– gated –_ garden of White-Ivy, and then turns back to Kylo. For a moment, the world, _once again,_ seems to narrow like a pinpoint or a spotlight, to the man in-front of her – and all else, the fluttering fall of snowflakes, the distant screams that echo all the way from the south-wards and though the halls, the chaos of their internalised conflict – all of it fades away like a distant world glimpsed through a looking glass, but one that was insanely tinctured and broken as a kaleidoscope is.

With one last glance at the guard down the hall, whose too busy sucking on the end of his cigarette and talking to a new nurse, Eve then nods only to herself and walks behind Kylo's chair. Rolling her knuckles around the handles, she only struggles with the first push until eventually the wheels are gliding the inmate's weight through the doors of White-Ivy.

Before the shock of her quick decision can even embed itself into Kylo Ren's system, the winds clip his face for the first time in weeks and the cold touch of snowflakes, get caught in his raven hair. The slight wind is pleasant to his pale skill, but not forceful enough to blow the cobwebs right out of his head.

He breathes in as if he has been starved of oxygen for years – which is somewhat true, for all the air in the asylum seems to be filtered with craze and idlest creed. Snow rests upon the every surface, as if it were a feathery-white barrier which covered the benches, gardens and even every crook of the building in which the Sister fearfully leaves with one of the most dangerous patients who lives permanently inside.

"Is this allowed, Sister?" He murmurs to the woman behind him, although nobody was around to even hear him.

She licks her lips, nodding her head, only to then shake it, "Only the tamest inmates get the privilege of walking the courtyards..." She answers in a frail voice, her eyes searching the courtyards below the entrance, "Though, it's cold and I doubt anyone else will be strolling the snow right now, to witness _us."_

Once again, Kylo's eyes are full of lighting, nothing illuminating the glow of his dark brown, almost hazel eyes, but the blinding electricity behind the sockets. He turns back in his chair to look at the Sister, and Eve only looks back, obviously nervous.

For the first time, it was her who was initiating a broken rule – a sin.

She had been outside often, for Eve walked some of the older patients that were unthreatening but still not in the right mind to mingle with those who live outside the gated fence which is only containing White-Ivy from the miles of forestry which surround it, and then the civilisation that live even further away – but it seems that no matter how many times she walked out those doors, she had forgotten about the stack of cobblestone stairs which connected the brick building to the snow covered grounds.

The Sister's heart pangs in her chest as her palms begin to sweat around the handles of the wheelchair, when she stops it right before the fall of the first step. She suppresses the truth of what she feels, shame and discomfort building so thick in the lump inside her throat, that it threatens to curdle and choke her – she starts to feel unease, the same as she had felt before Father Hux had ultimately dunked her face into the holy water and she choked on the laced liquid.

A paralysing jolt of pure admiration for the destruction of her morality and innocence, fuelled the sickness in his chest, which always craved the raw exhilaration Kylo got whenever he was tip-toeing on the verge of bad. He almost laughed at the rise of red in Eve's cheeks, as she even considered just rolling him back inside with hunched shoulders, but his words only kept her standing right in her place, as if the snow had frozen her to the ground.

"Breaking the rules now, are we?" He cocked a brow and then miraculously stood up from his wheelchair, taking the first step down the flight of stairs, not even wincing at the pain as he left scarlet footprints in the snow.

He turned back to Eve, whose mouth had slightly fallen, "What did the preacher do to _you?"_ He joked, but when her mouth snapped shut and her eyes moved away from him, he knew that he had struck something hidden.

Time itself seems to pause, slowed, then suddenly speeding right back up. The snow is falling quicker to her it seems, and the clouds only thicken above as if God had closed his curtains upon the mere sight of them. The only thing stirring, is her stomach as her mind clicks back to last night's events and the surroundings around her lack the colour which could smack her back to reality, until she follows the red foot-tracks in the snow.

Kylo Ren stares at his Eve as though he is seeing her again for the first time, and although she's battling something behind the glass of her hesitant eyes, he still thinks she is enchantingly beautiful – but when she shakes her head quickly and forces a small, closed smile below the red of her chill-bitten nose, the gleam from Kylo's eyes, darkens straight after. 

She now leads, only flinching when she can hear him walk more on his toes, which scrunch in the snow until he is back by her side, staring at her with a daunting expression.

"Eve." He warns as his shackles clink together loudly in the following silence.

The Sister feels like she is drowning again, but she only continues to walk along the path that runs around the diamond chains of the tall and intimidating fence, which keeps _both_ of them, caged in.

She gags on air as though it were water in her lungs, it feels as thick and heavy and unyielding as the laced holy water, and there is no fighting against the claustrophobia which smothers her the same as Hux's hand had pushed against her skull.

Kylo Ren's damaging fingers grasp onto her wrist, but they do not stop in their tracks, seemingly trying to get as far away from the looming windows of the manor, despite the fact that the patient is leaving markings in the snow for anyone to follow, and for the angels in the sky to heed.

"Look at me." He ordered, and just like always, she obeyed, "What did he do to you?"

Even without the plastic shoes that all inmates wore, Kylo was still _so much_ taller than Eve. Without a doubt, his face always holds the capability to leave her absolutely speechless. His hair looked softer than ever with the accompany of white sinking between the strands of black, and though the cold air did nothing for the paleness of his scarred and freckled cheeks, it did make his lips a little pinker – proving that there was life inside the embodiment of a violent, but mysteriously forbearing, man.

Both of their face's are engraved into the back of their minds, as if Father Hux had also sharpened the end of his dagger and cut the visions perfectly, the way he had sliced Kylo's bleeding feet. And even if the inmate wasn't looking so intently upon the face of _his_ angel, he would know that she is worried, and scared – after being the one who caused so much fear, he could determine that taste in the air, quicker than inhaling his favourite brand of cigarettes.

The oxygen is still struggling with fully entering her lungs, but only when his fingers interlock with her own and tightly squeezes – Eve breathes... gasping in the cold air, and indulging what her paling skin needed to keep that fresh glow that it had.

Her lips tremble, but no tears _– thankfully –_ fall, "It doesn't matter, Kylo." She whispers to him, not wishing to speak about what had truely happened to her, last night. She shakes her head as her boots crunch on both brick and snow, " – It's not like we can detest to what happens to either of us. We're stuck here... I am as imprisoned as you are."

Kylo Ren moves his eyes along the gate that they walk beside, "That type of weak thinking will get you killed, or worse – keep you captive here for longer." He says eloquently, but then his tone shifts to one more direct, "Don't be a servant, _Eve."_

The Sister shudders. "You treat me as a servant," She retorts.

Patient 727 raises his eyebrows and looks back at the young Sister again, who is still grasping onto his thick and long fingers, without dropping them at the idea of all the murderous things that he had done with them.

With the groggy light of the sun filtering through the grey clouds, Kylo's able to see more of Eve without the ominous shadows of the halls, which keep most hidden from his untrained eye – Eve looks beyond exhausted to the point where he's wondering if she should be the one wheeled around, dark half-moons are beneath her eyes, and not the silvery kind which comes with a lack of sleep, but a purple tinge that results from endless nightmares.

It is a sight of the Sister that he has never seen before, worn down and nearly spent, and something dark and unpleasant curls in his chest. He nods, knitting his brows together, "Yes, but you _are_ mine." He states, as if it was obvious.

He watches himself in the reflection of her teary eyes, which turn back to him – her footsteps almost slowing. Patient 727 recognises that look upon his own face, that insane protective glint shining in his own gaze which suddenly looked a lot more profound than he had imagined. He swallows and lets it slip, putting his own mask back on.

Eve blinks slow. Even with all of her drapes and veils, she is cold, colder than she has ever been around the heat of Kylo Ren, which she always moves towards as if it was inebriating. Her pretty eyelashes are wet with melted ice crystals, and as she says his name ever-so-softly again, she blinks to clear her vision, only for it to waver stubbornly back around his tall frame.

"Kylo –"

He squeezes her hand again, already knowing what she is about to say when her lips quiver and a tear slips down her cold cheek. There's that feeling, once again boiling in the tightness of his chest – but he will never admit what it is. In truth, he is somewhat taken aback by it. He always knew that his shadowed soul had seemed to be attached to her's with an invisible string, they were always _too_ bound up with each other, and the ties were just as inescapable as the cuffs around his wrists – but never has he wished to ensure that the strings were never cut from her, for that feeling inside of him... _needs her?_

"No." He snapped, "Eve, you're mine. You may think I am insane, but my sanity is only gripping onto the idea of you now, and there is no stopping my desires to keep you, even if you tried to escape."

The Sister's fingers begin to pulsate, and a flash of concern flinches upon her face – and treacherously, there will never be a time that his soul doesn't find pleasure from creating trepidation, no matter who he gives it to. That flare of possessive desire heats him once again, and she can feel just how warm his skin is in her hand, as if his blood was simply the fuel to the fires burning in hell.

Her eyes are as delicate as already shattered mirrors, full to the brim with tears as a liquor glass is that hasn't yet been sipped from. Upon hearing Kylo Ren's own words, she knows that they are somewhat possessive and demanding, but her soul still trembled like an earthquake would, and she only found cover and safety by moving closer to him – her shoulder clipping his bicep, every-time they took a step.

For a short, suspended second, Eve pretends that White-Ivy is no more, that Kylo Ren was only a simple man, and she was one of those girls that she used to, and still does, _envy._ Her ignorant and traitorous mind, dissembled the true evil of this reality, and deceived her conflict with the imagination that her and the man who held her hand, were lovers who were walking casually in the park, licking the falling snow from the air and consuming each-other's breath as if it was their life-source.

But the sounds of his chains, the following of bloody footsteps and the fence around them – was what dragged her back down to reality, before her metaphorical wings could even fly off to a land much more free... for that is something that neither of them, will ever be.

There had been something on her mind, since last night when her knees had fallen to the floor...

Eve blows out a small breath and says exactly what she was about to, before Kylo Ren had cut her off, "You have no power here..." She muttered, refusing to look back at him again, "... I think that it is best for us to avoid the fire of all our eventual punishings and stay away from each-other for the greater good."

His fingers immediately tear away from her's, and he takes a step to the side to look and consider her without the haze of lust clouding his mind with the closeness of her and the touch of her soft hands.

Kylo hears himself growl as if he was some kind of animal, "What the _fuck_ does that mean?" He seethes before he can stop himself, to which Eve would have winced at and wiped at the tears that fall down her face – but to his surprise, she does neither.

The Sister doesn't even flinch and look troubled by Kylo's outburst and the anger which defines in the vein upon his forehead and shows in the twitch beneath his right eye. She's unperturbed. Eve's numb.

The inmate tilts his head, and examines her closer – searching her eyes endlessly to find out the answers he needs. Father Hux had most definitely done something to her, and like always, Kylo Ren was prepared to make the ginger _bastard_ pay. 

They stop in their tracks at the same time, and his feet bleed further into the white snow – unbothered by the pain, for the ice is numbing the wounds. His eyes are still dark, unblinking, and they don't soften into liquid concern, nor does Kylo reach out with gentle, caring fingers to brush heat across the red of her nose.

Once again, Eve can only scarcely breathe for the sensation skating along the crest of her nerves is throttling. For the first time ever, the Sister is keeping her true feelings hidden away from the patient, who seemed to be able to always read her as easily as a newspaper. It's devotion and fear of what that first feeling will end up becoming, combined – pouring into her and filling her veins, which lead to the beat of her heart, which swells with desire for the man in-front of her but also with dread, making every cell in her body spark alive with fire and heat, whilst making them recoil at the same time, thrilling her while it also repels.

Kylo Ren weighs up his options in a heartbeat, his features impassive and his bound wrists hanging loose in-front of him. Then, he speaks slow, as if he is trying to ensure that she understands him, "Eve... there is no greater good in the world. There is only darkness, and I am not letting you walk into it blindly, alone."

She takes no time to think before saying, "But you're the one that pushed me into it, in the first place."

Suddenly, his fingers curl into his palms and with tight fists, he wants to strike her and punch his devotion into her skin – but when she _finally_ flinches as his hands rise, he quickly opens his hand again and only lets it fall upon her shoulder.

He smiles at the showing of emotion, no matter if it was negative. The preacher man hadn't totally torn her soul from her chest, just yet. Her slight slip of fear is an emotional reaction of some kind in comparison to the previous glacial calm and withdrawn blank stare.

Kylo Ren squeezes her, almost reassuringly before he lets go and trails careful fingertips up to her neck, and along the line of her jaw, where her veil tightly surrounds the locks of her hair, which he adores.

"Pushed you where, hell?" He chuckles, and his tone is suddenly wistful and yearning, even if his eyes stay empty as they stare her down, "There is no hell. Hell is here. There is no true good person in this world, for we are merely mortals. Everyone's a sinner, Eve... and because there is no room down in hell for all, the wicked now walk the earth, _with us."_

His mere touch brought her back to the war-grounds in which their lustful endeavours, will eventually get them killed. Fluttering her eyes closed, Eve exhales sharply and raises her own cold fingers, to his heated cupping along her cheek – and suddenly, she feels whole again, as if before there was something ripped away from her chest. Simultaneously overcome with relief as she warms right up to his touch and his words, which always had the ability to sway her, not matter how darkly under-toned they always were.

The Sister shrinks under his hand and her own, but then she lifts her head up to him and flicked open her mystified gaze. Her eyes are steadier now, even though Kylo can feel her trembling, the tiniest of tremors – but then, the faintest of smiles rises in the upturn of her soft lips, when his thumb grazes the pink.

The Sister can, _once again,_ feel the headlong dash of near-hysteria clattering through her brain, and the desire returning to her fragile and tortured vessel, sinking its claws so deep into her skin, poisoning her veins and threatening to take over her sanity, _again._

 _There is no escaping him, just as there is no escaping White-Ivy –_ The devil on her shoulder, whispers into her ear... and she believes him.

He is the wind that whistles around them, only his words are the tune of orchestral enlightening. He is the light, but only because his shadows are the darkest thing in this mortal world. Kylo Ren's hands are those of an artist, or a imitated God – for he can snap and shatter everything in his way, whilst also fiercely moulding her heart to wish to mimic his own, as if his beats with the drums of dark prophecy.

She speaks slow, too – the both of them, not even caring if someone was peering through the windows from the far off, almost abandoned corners of White-Ivy. "Are you one of the wicked?" She asked the demon before her, but it seemed that as of now, the both of them were tainted by the devil's touch.

The eternity of his gaze falls upon the Sister, his truely beloved, "Yes, and so are you." He nods once and smirks, finding it almost easy to bring her back into the capturing of his metaphorical, black wings.

"We're all just walking corpses." He says, as if it was an affirmation to where they will both belong, when the day of their black veils arrives.

She stares at him with skepticism, "That's not very reassuring." But the grin upon her face, _was –_ "You're probably wrong, I mean... you are _supposed_ to be crazy, that's why you're here."

He continues to brush his thumbs along her bottom lip – and only once, does she think back to the moment when Father Hux pressed his fingers into her mouth, and glided them along her tongue.

"You're here too, and like you said," Kylo Ren tusked, eyebrows raised, "– You're as imprisoned as I am here... and this does seem to be a home for the insane, so maybe we are _both_ just crazy."

Eve hummed, "Maybe."

In the hands of Kylo, she wants to tell him what the hands of the Father had done to her, just before he had sliced the markings of crosses into his bleeding soles. She wants to kneel to the floor and confess that something awful had happened, and that is what has made her so fearful of what they are doing. It is tearing her insides to shreds like paper, but upon them, she cannot find the right words to say – so she remains quiet when Kylo lets her face go, wraps his fingers around her wrists and begins to walk forward again.

"It's best to keep the devil on your side, than fight him, Eve –" He said as his eyes rest back on the fence around them, "For there is something much sicker than Satan, and I assure you that you will need _his_ help when you face the true wrath of–"

He cut himself off when something captured his attention – and in a split second, his hand unclasped from her wrist and he steadily walked onward towards the gate to their right. The fence around White-Ivy, was the same one in which was built around the manor, when the first word of World War II was spoken. It had stood high and tall, hammered into the ground, through all rain and shine, withstanding the winds and falling of snow, every year.

It was something that Eve's eyes had always drifted to, whenever she rolled over in her bed and looked out the window with a solemn, tired stare. Like all things in White-Ivy Penitentiary, it was threatening with its high chain-link and topped with barbed-wire loops, but the lack of humming electricity that ran through the fence was just another lie spoken on the grounds, in order to deter the drugged-up patients from getting close – but that still didn't stop the Sister from choking on her own breath, when Kylo Ren sunk to his knees right in front of it and placed his curled hands upon the patterned chain-links.

"What are you doing?" Eve frowns at his broad back quizzically, watching the blood follow him before she calls out, "Kylo – you're not allowed to be near the fence."

She moves closer to him, hesitantly – turning her head in every direction to ensure that nobody was watching them.

Kylo Ren looked back at Eve and scoffed with a smirk, "I'm not allowed to be out here at all." He chimed, then cocking a brow before turning back to whatever his hands were doing, "– And if you keep shouting we will be only punished for breaking _more_ rules."

She audibly gasped when she heard metal snap easily, and when she moved to the side to carefully see what he was doing – she watched the way his dark eyes almost imperceptibly glistened when the sun suddenly peaked between two dense clouds, and hit his face and pale hands, which were snapping a small hole in the fence, into a much bigger one.

His palms were bleeding when the sharp ends of the silver metal, pierced the skin – but neither of them payed attention to the blood which only ran to the small puddles of scarlet which came from his feet.

Eve's eyes are incredibly wide, and although she knew exactly what she was staring at, she still asked, "Kylo... W-What is that?"

Panic poisoned her blood. Kylo Ren shoved himself up, from his knees with little effort and wiped his bloody hands on the blue of his uniform. Eve knew exactly what he was about to say, when the widest smile was etched upon his scarred face, and then his left hand returned back to her face, only brushing her lips red.

Something in the Sister was screaming, pleading for her to move away from the fence and beg Kylo Ren to return back to his own cage.

His eyes turned back to the torn up fence, which had enough space for a person to squeeze through... if they were _desperate_ enough to get passed the sharp barbs and wires. 

There was a frozen moment, while Kylo reeled from astonishment and sudden screaming arousal at the mere idea of freedom – but then, breaking the sacred silent, he uttered the words she already knew were coming.

"It's a gap in the fence, Eve." Kylo Ren said, _"It's the way out of hell."_


	18. SEVENTEEN

With a life spent outside of White-Ivy, tranquility would become nothing but a welcomed breath of fresh air, and the poisoning of taught doctrine and creed, will only be replaced by the reliance of one's expedition without the persecution of metaphorical chains pulling them back beneath the cross.

With land to move beyond what the silver gates and white walls, attempt to trap the craze of minds to a small crammed space of utter melancholia, Eve knows that she would be free from the scrutiny of those who worship the light, but torment the dark – though, as Kylo Ren's words sink into her mind, they do not mould as a bandage to all her internal wounds, but instead... inflict more damage to her moral conflict. 

She observed the man kneeling to the ground by her feet – his own, almost as white as the snow if it weren't for the coating of blood that sunk into the ice and between his numb toes. 

Like a passage of augury – everything was unfolding, just as Kylo stood up after hunching over the small opening he had found, _and made larger,_ in the fence. Ice and petals of white snow, are settled in his dark hair and dampening the material upon his knees. The Sister could see her own reflection in his dark eyes, which were slightly glazed over due to exhaustion, but never lacked the fiery spit of the devil which danced behind the blessed rage of his attraction – but there was something worse in the dark brown pools, a vision and an omen of only what the Sister fears would come, if she allowed him to escape through the gate out of _hell._

The idyllic bliss of running far away from all this torture, would be soothing for only a sparse amount of time, for Kylo Ren would escape an _evil place,_ but he was an _evil person..._ there was a reason he was kept and contained here, he had done unspeakable things to deserve a life of cages and chains. 

More would die _out_ there, than _in_ here – Eve knows this. The violent nature in Kylo Ren's soul, was dark and twisted, but it was also deeply rooted into his ground vitality. There was no _fixing_ Kylo, there was no swaying him back to _their_ forgotten light, for it wasn't like he refused to listen to the gospel of resistance and irenic – it was only that, passive peace falls deaf upon the listening of his tormented malignance.

The Sister's insides feel like they were being stretched thin, far and wide – her survival wanted to flee the malevolence of the penitentiary, but her morality could only punch visions of Kylo Ren leaving her the second they got into the real world, which she had little knowledge of – and then going on to murder more girls like her, _and most likely,_ her too.

The sight was daunting to say the least. A storm was approaching but it was only the plague of Kylo Ren's darkness, finally crawling through the gap in the fence to mingle with the light of the real world, outside of White-Ivy Manor's territory. 

Living in White-Ivy was rough. It was brutal, barbaric, unfathomable and degrading. What made it even worse was many people didn’t belong or deserve to be so savagely tortured by the Father of the halls, who was the most sinister of them all. 

So many innocent souls were dragged here and corrupted, even more so than they were before – but they were packed into cells, for sins that they had bestowed. Nobody truely innocent came to White-Ivy Manor, and nobody escaped either.

But as the silence crept between their misty breaths, Eve couldn't help but also think that Kylo Ren was nothing like those other... _animals._ He was a monster – a monster who was too big for his cage. She knows that he is determined to snap out of his chains, and if today isn't the day, he will succeed on another – for he _is_ insane and although she was just as crazed for befriending a monster, for the safety of others, the Sister must pull the monster back by his silver lockings. 

Her mind was crumbling, and her heart was demolishing. She was too fragile and too tired to lie or bicker, but there was no determining what Kylo Ren might do after she slowly shakes her head and says with the adorning of sad eyes, "You can't leave, Kylo."

Without even the sparing of a heartbeat – if he even had one, Kylo Ren shook his head and contested, "No – at least, not without you."

His hand extended in the small space between them, his palms and fingers so cold that what little colour the pale man already had, died in the icy touch of winter. 

The shake of his long fingers crushed her conscience a little harsher, and the purse of his impossibly, soft and pink lips, sent her mouth into a fit of tingling. 

Eve tried to swallow roughly but her throat was tight and almost coarse, making her spit swap for sand instead, which almost scratched the muscles in her neck and bulleted into her twisting, uncertain stomach. 

Guilt was prominent in her wide eyes, and determination was strong in his own. Kylo Ren only ignored the remorse in her gaze and took a step closer – his breath harsh in the subtle cold wind, as if he was secretly unable to withstand through her silence... but then she shook her head again, her eyebrows knitting together as her stare refused to look back to his inviting hand. 

"I can't leave... I have nowhere else to go, and neither do you." She said, eyes now meeting with his narrowed own, "There's a reason you're locked up in here with shackled hands and drugs that are shoved down your throat every morning."

Kylo Ren's fingers curled into a tight fist and his lips flinched slightly – an obvious battle was going on in the war-zone of his own mind, as he heard her treacherous words.

He blinked rapidly as if trying to place himself, his fist falling back to his side, but his white knuckles never relaxed – making Eve slightly weary. 

His raspy tone spoke slow and controlled, as his head tilted back to the fence, "It's easier for the devil to find us in his own cage, than out there, Eve." 

In this very second, with the silence passing with an antagonising suspense of time, the patient felt as if he actually losing grip on his sanity, and becoming what his psychiatrist truely calls him. 

Kylo Ren couldn’t seem to understand why she was being so dimwitted, and why she would wish he and her would stay in the very place of hell and destruction. He couldn't stand for it, he _wouldn't_ allow it. 

He glances sideways at his Eve again, and she looks dauntingly broken with the accompany of silvery bruises beneath her tired, defenceless eyes – and when she finally pulls enough strength together to open her mouth and speak, Kylo Ren can only ignorantly tense his jaw at the quiver in her refusal. 

"... But what happens when I escape, hand in hand with another devil?" She whispers, "I may have an absence of faith, Kylo – but I cannot allow you to go out and only pass on your pain. This place is a home for evil, and I apologise when I say that you are no different."

Her heart was thrashing against her ribcage and knocked loud with the steady beat of her pulsing blood, which seemed to coarse her whole body, but forgot the route to her hands – which were so cold that they had become numb and her fingernails had tinged blue. 

She too, felt as if she was going crazy – for the more she stared into Kylo's eyes, the less she wanted to beg for him to stay here with her. Eve felt betrayed by her own heart, though it should never wish to only beat for the black heart behind his own chest, but as they stand on the cushioning of white snow, the Sister felt unsettled that his red blood was almost becoming bland compared to the hidden darkness that was embracing them. 

When his hand lifted between them again, Eve closed her eyes and tried to trick her mind into finding clarity without the taint of his presence to fog up her senses with the fabrication of desire and weak, traitorous devotion. 

Kylo Ren took another step closer, his scarlet footsteps following him, but he only wished that Eve would instead. 

"This is not a home." He uttered, his hand moving to her face and coldly cupping it. When her eyelids fluttered, he could almost see the antagonism between them and her closed eyelids, but she never opened them to look back at him. 

Kylo sighed, " – You know it isn't... and yet, you have never felt the warmth of a home before. When was the last time you felt peace and proper sanctuary?"

The Sister's eyes abruptly snapped open, but only to watch her own past unfold in the darkness of Kylo's own eyes.

The smell of sunflower seeds and fresh bread is what she first remembers, and then she can picture the red polish of her mother's hands, setting the table in-front of her – leaning over the plastic covering with her golden cross dangling from around her neck, right by the steaming loaf which sat in the centre. 

Then she can feel the slight burn of leather beneath her thighs, as the car radio faintly sings with the lullaby of a choir – to which her mother's forgotten face is sitting in the seat in-front of her, humming the tune as she turns her cherry-lips to the man beside her,

And Eve can also still remember the sting from her father's hand wringing around the small expanse of her childish wrist, as he drags her up the stairs of the monastery.

The monastery. That was the most she's ever considered to be a home, and yet, the Sister would never have called it _her own._ The monastery was some of the roughest years of her life, though she cannot remember much before it – but she can recall one Bible verse that her old Preacher had spoken one day in the church, _"– A house not made with hands..."_ He had read, and ever since that day, Eve had wondered what that could possibly mean. 

_Until, Kylo Ren had touched her._

Now, it all made sense.

The Sister had never had a home. She once related to the humbling of the peaked sanctuary, but with the demolishing of conviction, Eve had nowhere to fit in – until Kylo showed her what a place of comfort and passion could truely contain. The patient felt like the embodiment of a place of refuge, and everywhere else in which she could explore without the scowling eyes of God, all at once.

 _"– A house not made with hands..."_

Perhaps, they are the very hands themselves – Call her crazy and a looney, but Eve can only believe that _h_ _er_ heart was almost carried in _his_ shackled hands.

They still stand in silence, almost forgetting about the manor standing tall behind them, all together as his hand meets the chill of her cheeks. 

The Sister's eyes move briefly to the faint, almost hidden hole in the fence. It was a far-fetched escape, one that would result in greater punishments than the cruel, Father Hux could ever inflict. Her soul is already slithering through the gap, but her intellect is standing its ground and saying, there was no way that they would make it through the trudge of the forest, and that Kylo Ren wouldn't plague the rest of the world with his sickening malice.

The Sister's eyes move back to him. 

Her home may be his hands, but he had used them for many sins and acts that were purely whispered by the venomous tone, spat by the devil... and though Kylo had hurt her just as many times as he had pleasured her, she cannot allow his malice to convert to the flesh of another. 

For he was her's, just as much as she was his – and their insanity only bleeds between the tangling of their crazed minds, and beating heartstrings. 

His thumb brushed over her bottom lip, "Tell me, angel..." 

Kylo Ren's tone had dwindled into a warmer rasp, something softer – but his eyes were yet to grow wide and pleading, although the dark brown which she had grown accustomed to over the passing weeks, still held the power to capture her mind and twist it to think in the ways he wished, as if he was a manipulator – but she only enjoyed the change. His prominent scar still cuts deeply across the right side of his face, magnified by the white background and silvery glow of the sky above – it wasn't fair that he was so alluring, for Eve never really stood a chance whenever he looked at her with the beauty of a saint, but the mind of a fiend.

She wanted to tell him all that was on her mind, and what was currently smashing her heart into tiny pieces, only to glue them back together and so-on – but she couldn't, for Kylo Ren didn't own a heart, let alone would ever feel the same adoring proclivity in which she struggles to understand. 

And _if_ she had spoken the truth, Kylo Ren wouldn't have understood, either – for he didn't own a heart which could beat with emotional disposition. He was a man who _only loved_ watching other people's melodramatic hauntings come to life by his own apathetic tendencies. He made no wishes, he had no affections other than lust. _So although,_ he had a beat in his chest coming from a heart, even Kylo Ren knew that it was only a heart of stone.

"Never." She _lied._

He nodded, for that is what he had ignorantly presumed would fall from her petalled lips, "If you never leave here, you will never truely know. I know places in which nobody would ever find us, places where not even the Lord could keep his eyes upon you anymore." He said – his voice a delicious rumble that sent a shiver up the Sister's spine in spite of her inner conflict.

Eve flinched, but still pressed her cheek further into his warming palm. At a bit of a loss, she then rose her own trembling hand to his arm, and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, almost hoping that he would let her go – but she never pulled, and neither did he pull away.

Eye's flashing with perpetual despondency, the Sister glanced up at him and lingered for a second on his lips, which he helpfully moistened against the drying of winter's breath.

"Kylo..." She whispered with regret.

There was no changing this time. There was no moulding to his benefit, for she could only think about the shackles around his wrist that her fingers flinched at when they met the biting coldness. 

That muscle beneath his eye, twitched again and his blunt fingers dug a little deeper into her fleshy cheek, but she didn't give him the satisfaction of wincing. Just the breath of his spoken name, hung in the chilling air, sharper than any blade and more harsh than any cut he could create with it – for it still meant that she wasn't going to willingly leave... and he would never leave without her.

Kylo Ren almost wants to spit on his own internalise strife, for he should just turn barbaric and force her through that sharp opening, and keep her to his cruel, egotistical self, forevermore – but he doesn't want to hurt her in this very second, for even he is too exhausted to play the _physical_ game of predator and mouse, right now.

The clouds above are dark but the sun tries to peak through and fill the cold land with actinic brilliance, which only reflects on the small layer of water above the enchanting colour of her eyes. He can almost picture the way she would look in heaven, if he had never cursed her with his own immorality. Wings, strong and defined as they would spread around her, but not cage her in with the feathers only fluttering softly from her back... but he had clipped them to ensure that she would never be able to fly away from him. 

Kylo Ren almost smiled demonically to himself, and the devil on his shoulder was cackling – for as the sky darkened once more, Kylo _knows_ that there is another way to make her take his hand. After-all, she has been weak since the moment she fell to her knees before him, on day one. 

"Eve – one way or another, you're going to die here, and so am I... but even if I have to claw my _fucking_ way to freedom, I'm not going to let that happen for I will force you to come with me, no matter if you wish to or not." He fought against the merciless smirk that tugged upon his lips. 

She still continued to fight, " – But how many other people will die with the sparing of my own life?"

Kylo's breath hitched in his throat. He had presumed that she was cautious of her own safety, not the existence of other mortals. Kylo Ren took a deep and shuddering inhale, but he didn't speak. 

"Stay." Eve breathed softly, as he closed his eyes.

He silenced the whispers of his own devil and focussed on her own voice for a second. _Oh,_ the things that she unknowingly had done to him. He should just snap her neck now and kill her for the pure fact that she had _slightly_ been able to wither his ghastly soul – but her neck remained untouched, and so was her vitality. 

With the devil silenced – Kylo's thoughts were clearer than they had been in years. No longer filled with insidious, incessant hushes of violence and the greed for power, he opened his eyes and stared at her in wonder, just in time to capture her lips move while she uttered, 

_"Please."_

Fear ran through her veins at the mere idea of staying in White-Ivy, but there was no denying further fear would be passed on, outside of the gates if Kylo Ren crawled through them. When his eyes opened back to her, they were darker than the Sister had ever witnessed them to be before. 

His lips were thinly pursed, scar prominently dug into the tensing of his face and even the burnt wounds upon his temples, looked threatening. For a split second, Eve frets that he was about to force her with violence, like he had done many of times before, and she winces merely at the idea but remains in his holding. 

Kylo Ren was staring deeply into her mind, it seemed – the same way he does whenever they are playing chess, and he's searching her gaze to figure out what her next move could possibly be, despite the fact that he is _always_ at least five moves ahead of her pawns, already.

There was something evil in his mind, something that was rubbing its hands together and scowling – and it made her feel uneasy, but she merely swallowed her nerves and tried to keep her own face unreadable, just as she would when they were hunched over that checkered game.

And just when Eve thought that he was about to harm her, instead, Kylo only leaned in slowly and pressed his cold lips against her own. 

His big hand finally curled around her neck, but made no effort to squeeze this time as she struggled, willing against his grip until it actually did tighten. Eve was shocked, eyes flying wide only to flutter back closed when she found undeniable comfort from the softness of his addictive lips.

She knew what he was doing, he was using his sharpest tool of them all, his most deadly and threatening – Kylo was using her own passion and intimate worship in which she held for him, against her... _and it was working._

A lock of his raven hair fell from behind his ear and tickled their smashed noses, itching their numb skin but also feeling like silk. When she moaned into his mouth, Kylo bit down on her bottom lip, relishing in the taste of the blood which gravitated to his own tongue. 

And only when her knees began to buckle and surrendering tears slipped through her eyelashes and down her cheeks, did Kylo Ren pull away – leaving a strand of saliva to be the only thing attaching them _physically_ together. 

The Sister was breathless and her shoulders dropped with known renounce, for there was no way she could refuse his offer or demand now, for she would do anything he says, so long as he says them with his hands. 

Kylo Ren smirked, eyes glazed over with intense passion and pride, while his own lips were wet with spit and her blood. Eve rolled her lips together and when the scarlet from her bitten lip painted her lips, some trickled to her chin, and Kylo grinned – his fingers moving to wipe his favourite colour away from her beauty.

"Maybe, I was wrong." He muttered deep, sending vibrations into her own chest, as Eve suddenly became perplexed.

_Maybe, he was going to stay?_

She held her breath and hoped that was the case, for there was no denying that her feet were already willing to follow him through the hole in the fence, despite the claws of her morals, clinging to the bricks of the Manor's courtyard, beneath the snow.

When Kylo's hands moved back to her cheeks, his chains cupping the bottom of her chin – she finally felt so content, for his bleeding feet were only solidly planted in place. It was as if he had finally listened to her, instead of forcing her to do as he says, for he knew she always would. For the first time since she had met Kylo, she felt as strong as him, balanced, and complete. The Sister closed her eyes, revealing in the heat his hands now brought to her... but then the coldness of his tone, woke her nerves right back up. 

"– It seems that in-fact, I don't even have to force you... for you have always willingly been mine."

Echoes of writhing pain twisted down her spine as the shudders ricocheted with fear, right down every bone. His hands left her face and his shackles clanked as he returned them back in-front of his body and took a step back, to watch the terror form on her face. 

Kylo tilted his head to the side and said nothing, awaiting a reply from her in the silence as snowflakes danced innocently between them.

Anger and self-hatred flared and soared through every vein in her shaking body, and the unnerving calmness coming from Kylo's sly smirk, was the most antagonising thing she had ever seen. The power has shifted once again, though it had never moved from Kylo Ren's grasp, ever before. 

Eve could never hate him, but she hated what he did to her. Shaking with dismay and dread, she could not fathom another way to make him stay – and that was what made him one of the best serial killers in the country. Patient 727 was cleverly cruel and cunning, and a complete sadist when it came to the time he got _whatever_ he wanted with his acquired skills. 

She's panicking on the inside, her tears only a slight inkling for him to suspect that she is still fighting against her own inclination to him. It was a classic case of Stockholm Syndrome, and a tough one in which Kylo knows will never be cured. 

The Sister's watery eyes flicked back to the fence, and she wanted to scream and swear at her heart's foolishness for making itself so breakable for Kylo's greedy hands of shattering. It was a torturous feeling of breath and heart stopping within her chest, as her lips are left cold but her desire still sits hot in her stomach. 

"Please, Kylo." She tiredly tried to beg, but even the Lord and Devil, knew that she would end up following Kylo Ren, wherever he went.

Her chin wobbled and so did her faint words, "Don't _make me_ do this."

He was only comfortable in chaos. Claiming souls before they could claim him, and although Eve was _never_ a threat, he still found pride in his domination over her frailness. The patient hummed low, and casually moved back to her after reaching his hand into his left pocket and retrieving a cloth of scrunched up white. 

As he made his way back over, bleeding crosses still forming in the snow with every step, Eve knitted her brows at the cloth in his hand, only to widen when she realised what it was as he unfolded it and pulled out a set of keys which were wrapped inside.

It was her underwear, which he had kicked secretly beneath his bed a couple of days ago – and the keys... were her's, which he had swiped from her pocket that day, _also._

Her heart paused completely in the midst of an erratic beat – and as her blood also stilled, Eve wondered if she was dreaming, or hallucinating. She had to be insane, for this cannot be real... but it was. Kylo Ren has the keys to the locks of White-ivy, and how she hadn't of realised that her's were missing, was unfathomable. 

Horrific dots were hovering at the edges of her eyes, threatening to knock her out before her heart finally carried on when she gasped in shock.

Kylo Ren only breathed in her fragile sound, and sighed it contently back out upon the icy-stillness of her face. She didn't question him, nor did she try to fight anymore. She had lost and she was already preparing to pull her broken but captured-self together, and crawl through the snapped wires, possibly even leaving her veil of creed behind. 

When Kylo flicked through the set and found the longest one, the master-key to White-Ivy, the Sister didn't flinch when he held it beneath her wobbling chin and dipped her eyes back to his looming face above her. 

"We will leave at midnight." He said, and if he didn't have the keys in his hand, Eve would have laughed – for there would be no way for him to escape his cage, unless he had the key to unlock it. 

Her stomach sunk and so did her lips. He stirred her core like thrashing winds of domination. Kylo had the ability to almost tornado her previous fights to a place she once had dared not to enter, a place in which the devil sat on a throne – but she wasn't so sure if Lucifer saved that spot for himself, or merely warmed it for Kylo Ren. 

His eyes were cold and dark, his sinister energy, unaffected by her defeat. His other hand moves around to cup her cheek again, and the keys clink against his shackles but upon the set, there is not one small enough to fit into the lock upon his cuffs. She swallows roughly against the silver chains, and flutters her sad eyes closed as yields herself willingly over to him, _again._

Kylo Ren's voice was soft and sincere, but the smirk etched in his expression was almost menacing – but he was only doing this for the best. They needed to leave White-Ivy, even if that did mean a demon was let loose once again upon the land of the free. 

"Meet me by the Virgin Mary." He said before he pinched the tip of the key further into her flesh, and then abruptly pulled his hands back down to tuck it into the folding of her white underwear – which he kept at the bottom of his pockets, always. 

As she wheeled him back through the halls of White-Ivy, for presumably the last time – Eve looks to the spirits upon the glass windows, who all seem to wear the same grave face as she had, as her morals begun to flatten into despair.

She wants to trust the man sitting in the wheelchair, but she knows that there is no curing his thirst to kill – he would only crave violence, the second he is free and the Sister isn't sure if she is more fearful for her own life, or whoever his eyes lay on first.

There is an ache in her heart, one in which she hasn't ever felt before, and cannot distinguish, nor disguise as she shuts the cell door after wheeling Kylo Ren in, with a promise to meet him by the Virgin Mary statue, when all lights have died dark and the halls are as empty as the glass eyes upon the windows. 

There was no denying that Kylo Ren was manipulating her, by using her own weaknesses for him, against her. What they had, was far from love – for Kylo Ren never had the capability to feel anything further than libido and lust, and Eve had never received enough love to even decipher what that meaningless word _could_ mean.

All Kylo could bring, was temporary bliss whilst only masquerading the manipulation of passion, with his soft touches that he knew could coerce _his_ angel to do anything _he_ desired. 

The Sister was nothing but a puppet on a string, and Kylo was the puppeteer who moved her with her own heartstrings, which had coiled around his long and warm fingers. He pushed her and pulled, tested boundaries and cheered when she broke them all for him.

Eve knew that he was evil, but she still couldn't regain power back over her her body and all acts of sincerity and devotion that she had placed right in the trappings of his own claws. 

When her boots are clicking down the halls and away from the sounds of the screaming patients of the eastern-ward, her mind really takes the quietness as a place to scream. Her nerves were frayed like the end of a tangled, broken wire and in her building anxiety, her crazed mind constructed elaborate rationalisations, about how and why everything that could happen after midnight, would turn out alright and for the best – _but still,_ the nagging voice in the back of her dead-ended brain spoke of nothing but doom ahead.

There's a certain desperation which comes with defeat. She wants someone to almost chain her to the walls, or lock her in a cage so she doesn't meet the man by the statute, for her soul has pleaded allegiance to his black one, and there is no escaping the ice in her veins, which will force her to meet him at midnight, for he was a fire and she was his loving, ignorant moth. 

Her eyes are wet and her dry mouth wants to cry out for help, but not even the spirit in the sky would listen to her pleas anymore, no matter how loud she cries or tries to fight against what her heart is forcing her to do. 

There is no angel which will be sent down from the dark clouds to save her with a pull of one hand as Kylo Ren pulls at the other.

But suddenly, as she turns a corner and nearly crashes into a chest which had the cross hanging right above the beat of a more ruthless heart than Kylo Ren's... Eve just _knew_ that it was Lucifer, _himself,_ who had sent up someone to help her refrain from joining sides with his biggest opponent to the throne of hell, _instead._


	19. EIGHTEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> lol are people actually reading this?  
> also, if you are... I'm sorry this was kinda all over the place, but expect big things next chapter!

The greatest betrayal is summoned only by the hands of sacrifice. There are so many ways in which someone can prove their bravery, whether it be by fighting for what makes them weak, or giving it up for the sake of becoming stronger without it. 

The Sister's weakness is only burdened by the sufferings mounted, hand-in-hand with the very person who had the ability to make her knees tremble, heart quake and breath wane – though, she's tired of the torment which comes with the burning pain of devotion, and with knowing that she will forever hold onto Kylo's heated hands of flames, she needs someone else to pull her away before she too, lights on fire. 

_So,_ when the devil had sent up a cruel man who had the same amount of untainted violence coursing through his veins, as was Kylo's poisoned blood – she soon realised that there was only two ways in which she could fight or please the conflict buried in her heart – either to react with ignorance to her heart's adoration, which would follow Kylo Ren out of White-Ivy and lead a life of neutralised slaughter, or to ignore her sullen heart's love, and iniquitously seek to find another hand of suffering, to fight her own battles for her. 

Father Hux was prepared by all means, to keep the Sister beneath the same holy ceilings as him, as was he certain that he would never let a looney slip out of his halls – hence, when the young Sister had told him a clandestine with the voice of a timid angel, that her keys had gotten into the hands of Patient 727, who was pressuring her to meet by the statue at midnight, he rewarded her for seeking his guide and turning back to the light.

The priest had held her shoulders with his long fingers of credence, though his nails were the claws dipped in degeneracy, scratching at the material of her clothes, wondering just how many bumps and shivers were littering her soft skin beneath it as she tried to hold back tears – and why she was crying, was the only thing that snapped him back to his harsh, formative thinking in which is always stringing words and acts together, to find what could be corruptly going on behind his back. 

Something was not right. Perhaps, her lips were tight and she wasn't only holding back tears, but also the truths that could be seen within them. The young Sister was like a helpless child, one in which Hux presumes that if she had no dominie or master, she would be an orphan who freezes on a cold park bench, waiting through the trudge of snowy days with an imbecilic hope that someone would one day come and _save_ her. 

As he had watched her walk back to her quarters, with the promise that they would see each-other in a few short, ominous hours – The Father had wondered what she was like when she was a child, was her previous guardians overprotective and never left her unattended to fall and become scratched with the grazes of childhood , or was she always as recklessly innocent as she was now?

When a child of God grows older, they get stronger – but the Sister lacked the wit that comes with experience which acts as a survival warning around danger, _and yet,_ she only seems to be easily lead by peril and only flees whenever she deservingly gets punished for ignorantly being attracted by the dark in the first place.

Father Hux's utter evilness which lives in his heart is snapping its drooling jaw, preparing to bite into the void and the demons in which are walking out of the shadows with an outstretched hand, motioning the angel of God in. 

He will teach her with fragility and severity until she finally learns to do what she is told with the utmost compliance – for that was Hux's job, to enlighten those with dark eyes, such as her _lying_ ones. 

When the clocks of White-Ivy all click to midnight, the time in which Eve had been dreading, has finally arrived with only one tick of a hand, and one embrace of another to come. Her nerves are frayed and electric, sending spurts of anxious and guilty shocks into her blood and sending shivers along every inch of her cold skin. 

As she walks down the empty and eerily dark halls towards the secluded entrance of the manor, she flicks her eyes up to every passing clock on the wall and wishes that she could smash her fist into the glass face and either pull the time backwards or at least halt the dawn of a new day of supposed freedom, from ebbing its gradual way into a sombre night of treachery.

Heart beating fast, deep down Eve knows that it was not Kylo Ren, who was to fault for the death of her faith – it was only her own. She had willingly done all that he had wished, and when it came to the final request of escaping their boundaries she knew that she couldn't refuse, but neither did she desire to follow him through the gap in the fence.

She hadn't told Father Hux about the hole in the silver, chain-link fence – nor did she speak about the uttering of a plan to leave, for that would lead in further punishment than deserved. 

But both Kylo Ren and her, truely deserved to be punished – they deserved to perish in the burning flames of hell, only to rise back up to the mortal world as flickering embers that would die a thousand times over in the winter made by the Lord's gracious angels. 

The Sister felt a stab of sadness plague her insides in a distasteful, torturous way and for a split moment, she wondered if betraying Kylo is a crueler form of punishment than anything Father Hux could reprimand either of them with. She had begged the Father to not discipline the patient, for it was _her_ fault that she had _accidentally_ left her keys on the dining table and had not realised that he had taken them, before it was too late... and although Hux had promised her, she couldn't stop whatever he did behind her back, and he had never been the one to keep a promise. 

When she reaches the conjunction which leads straight to the ceramic Virgin Mary, Eve stops in her tracks before turning down the left hall, and blows out an exasperated and shaky breath. In the deadly silence of midnight, even her heartbeat seems to have stopped working as she frets that what she had done, wasn't for the best. Perhaps, a life outside of White-Ivy could have truely been wonderful, and she would have been just like those women on the street which she envied, walking with her hand curled around Kylo's bicep with a cheery smile perched on her cherry-red lips, hair blowing in the wind – that was the life she had always wanted, wasn't it? 

_There's still time –_ the devil is whispering with malice and mischief upon her shoulder of ways in which she can still escape and become young, wild and free with the man that has captured her heart... _but that was just it,_ there was no liberty when it came to Kylo Ren, _either._ He had managed to catch her so eloquently, despite his raging sickness, and Eve knows deep down, that he was not the kind to simply walk down the street with a beautiful woman on his arm, for he would only lead them into a dark ally to slit her neck and tear his claws through her hair.

The future was unforeseeable, but there was no denying that either way, it was going to be dark and deadly. She has seemed to forgotten that light had even existed in a time before arriving to White-Ivy, and after Kylo Ren had taken over her mind, he had become everything she has ever wanted, when she had never even craved iniquitous relations before.

The pain still lurks, but it's easier to pretend it's not there than to acknowledge the horrors she has buried in the deepest parts of her mind, as she shakes it from her head and turns the corner with a saddened sigh. Kylo Ren wasn't good for her, and she wasn't good enough to fix him, for she was only encouraging his sinister tendencies with every lash and bruise his warm hands laid upon her yearning skin.

She was simply overwhelmed by the power of her emotions and taken by the wind of passionate tides, which carried her away from enlightenment and divinity. The Sister has to flick the devil off her shoulder and only listen to the voice in the back of her own mind, even if that type of thinking could land her a cozy place in one of the cells with shackled hands, with the labelling of Schizophrenia upon her own file – but at least _that_ voice beats walking to the Virgin Mary alone, with this shattering of a heart in her hollow hands and fright trembling every single bone in her body.

The Sister doesn't notice the rapid pace of her moving chest as her breath quickens when she walks through the main entrance lobby, but what causes her to force herself to focus on each inhale is the clouds of mist that fog up from her lips and then fades away as she walks through it, moving sluggishly up into the high ceiling and even towards her own destination. 

The white, ceramic statue of the Virgin Mary was the centre piece of the lobby – standing as tall as the average man and being the first thing that eyes naturally gravitate to, even when the space around her is inky in its shadowed night.

It seemed that every statue of Mary was the same. Moulded in complete white purity, wearing floor-length drapes which mantle the boarder she stands on as her hands are tightly pressed together beneath her chin. But her tears are what Eve's curiosity had often drifted to, for it is said that she cries not only over the sins of the world, but also over the pain she endured in her life for what had been done to both her, and her loved ones – the Sister feels her own tears build in her eyes, but she simply flicks her gaze away from the weeping Mary as soon as the large man who leans his broad shoulder upon the statue, catches her attention when his long shadow slightly moves in the moonlight from the windows behind.

His face is yet to be seen from this far and in the darkness, but Eve can already feel herself shrinking beneath the brown. She takes another step closer, and the patient kicks himself casually off the statue and meets her halfway – the white figure still looming above the pair of sinners, crying over their breaches of trust. 

But as Eve tilts her head upwards to meet his eyes, Kylo Ren's tall stance was more intimidating than the tearful, white eyes of the Virgin Mary. He is monochrome in the moonlight streaming through the glass windows behind the statue, but his eyes are still warm against all his rough paleness and black hair which effortlessly waves around his strong features. No matter if it was day or night, Kylo was always a shadow of a man, the shade of void-like darkness that could consume a mortal and abolish the light of morality and righteousness from their soul. 

With the scar struck deeply across his face and the addition of his prominent nose, the left side of his attractive face was illuminated by the moon, but the right was still hidden in the shadows of White-Ivy.

But even if Kylo Ren was to turn around and disappear back into the void of night, Eve would be able to recall just the way he looks, for it seems his wickedly handsome face was painted or brutally engraved onto the other side of her closed eyelids. 

Even in her dreams, the Sister's sub-conscience wouldn't be able to fail in not perfecting his alluring features, face, stance and overall ambiance. She could draw just from memory every strand of his smooth, silky hair, every last one of all the little moles spattered across his face and neck, every speck of gold in his dark-brown eyes.

Heat skates over her skin and clouds in her hesitated breath. The Sister almost wants to declare insanity and search every hall for her own brain, for her mind only seems to think about him – Kylo Ren had driven her insane, twisting and moulding it so she only ever thought about, craved, needed and wanted every single crazy part of him... who is standing only a couple of cold inches away from her, but his own body heat is oozing through the chill of winter and the invisible cold-shoulder of deception.

Kylo Ren, the condemned lady killer and self-titled, destroyer of all evil with his own burdens of darkness. The 727th patient of White-Ivy Penitentiary, whom she had desired from the moment she had laid her _warm_ hands upon his coldness, even when she was yet to discover what desire and lust even was. 

That was exactly why she had to stop herself from escaping with him – for she has lost her mind, but she has also misplaced her heart with him... and Kylo Ren was a _killer_ of beating hearts. 

Sniffing lightly, she avoids meeting his eyes and doesn’t really know what to say, before it is too late but then all at once, Kylo's pink mouth ticks up in a way that sends dark, hot spirals coiling in her stomach – tightening the muscles in her core. 

"Eve." He says.

 _And_ just as if that was the cue, tears begin to slip immediately down her cheeks and there is no point in wiping them away, for more will simply replace them – it is as if they were permanently placed upon the softness of her reddening cheeks, as if she was a weeping statue too. Eve hoped that the shadow of his tall frame, hid them from his own eyes.

Her senses are almost overwhelmed. She feels _everything,_ but the guilt is the heaviest thing weighing upon her conscience. Luckily for her, Kylo couldn't see the sorrow upon her face, but he could hear her timid breathing and feel her almost trembling before him. 

Her heat is alluding in the frost of nightfall, and he gravitates closer to it as she is yet to speak. The patient can almost picture the way she must be biting down on her bottom lip with suppressed fear, possibly about what would become of them in the moments after escaping through the hole in the fence – but Kylo only secretly promises himself, that no matter what they would live in a paradise, so long as they were together.

He moves slightly, letting the light from behind his tall stature, fall upon her grace. 

"Kylo." She finally whispers, in a coarse and despairing voice. _Something was troubling her._

Kylo Ren stares at her with an unreadable expression. Eve meets his gaze and feels a pang in her already agonising chest. Sanity is slowly slipping away, and her vision is only taking in... _him._

No matter how hard she tried, Eve still couldn’t wrap her head around the fact that Kylo Ren was so engrossed with her, as if she had charmed him and he was enchanted by her virtue and innocence. But maybe, that was all part of his little game, before tying down his victims and cutting them to pieces, perhaps he liked to twist their minds and force them to adore him more than he could ever willingly love another.

Although, if it weren't for her previous actions of telling Father Hux, the Sister knows that in this split second if she hadn't of spoken to the priest she would have thrown everything away and torn off her veil for him in an instant, almost leading him to the hole in the fence, herself – for in the matter of two seconds, he furrows his brows in concern and asks her, 

"What's wrong?"

He can hear her breaths as if they were sputtered directly into his ears, feel her heartbeat as if he had ripped it out from her chest, and he was holding it in his hands. He can smell her too, her clean, sweet scent so thick it makes the air barely breathable, but he loved the way it wasn't ruined by those tacky perfumes most women wore these days which were often headache inducing. 

Eve pauses at both his words and the fact that he takes a closer shuffle towards her and runs his bound hands on her shaking, hunched shoulders. Frowning slightly, she can feel his warmth... but suddenly, she realised that he was never warm, Kylo was cold – so cold, almost unnaturally so. It was as if her body had tricked her longing, needy skin into believing that his ice-like fingers were so chilled, that they burnt her skin in a heated way. But she didn't move away from him, because it was him... she could never escape him, even if she _really_ wanted to.

Their gazes smouldered like fire and electricity was burning in the air and all around them, but they found safety purely in each-other's eyes. 

The Sister felt her heart quicken, only to sink right to the churn of her nervous stomach. She was frightened and her breathing became erratic as Kylo's eyes narrowed, obviously trying to see through her mask of defiance with his golden-brown irises.

"Nothing." She shook her head and _lied._

Her chin quivers and so does her voice, when Kylo grasps onto it ever-so delicately, she gasps and flinches out of his fingers. Eyes could be watching them, she doesn't want him to be punished for she had already pleaded with the preacher not to lay his cruel hands upon him. 

Kylo Ren is obviously taken aback, his eyes narrowing further and his jaw tensing tightly. Hair hangs around his dark eyes, as crescent-moons of silver and purple linger below and hang upon the hollowness of his skull. He has the eyes of a predator, but in this very second, they almost soften in an ounce of hurt at her rejection.

The Sister's heart beats back alive, only to then shrink a size with shame. She wants to reach out and place her own hand to his cheek and mumble an apology, but she is only trying to do what is best for both of them – but that doesn't dwindle the pain, it only tortures her internally some more. She is overcome with panic, pain, and desperation – though, it is the loneliness which is almost eating at her to the bone, leaving her nothing but a corpse to bury in a solitude of a guilty coffin.

Gritting his teeth together and grinding his sharp, monstrous canines, Kylo Ren looks away abruptly when he thinks that he saw something move in the shadows – but when his cold eyes caught nothing, he turned back to Eve and scowled, "Don't lie to me." He warned, hands moving back to her chin and forcibly shaking it between his rough fingers. 

Her eyes fluttered back up to him with much resistance, feeling as if they were being pulled down heavily by her own tears but in the matter of slowly drawn seconds, their eyes meet. 

Euphoria lingers in his entrancing gaze, but it is the savage eyes of a monster which are truely staring back at her. And yet still, the breath evaporates right out of her lungs again and even the moonlight seems to darken as the winds which once thrashed against the windows, froze for a subtle second. 

Every cell in Eve's body was screaming at her to run away, and that what she had previously done was for the best. Although, every single damaged nerve in her system was buzzing passionately, almost letting her know that he was somehow, her happily ever after – and that without the bars and cages around them, they could live a perfect life with liberty.

Death could never touch Kylo Ren, it is as if he is the most fearful thing in both the netherworld, and the mortal one he walks upon today, with her by his crawling side. Eve hates herself for it, but she suddenly realised that without him, her heart would not know how to beat and her lungs would forget how to breathe. Although, he stood and spat ice, his touches were warm and so was the fire burning behind his eyes – no matter how cruel the flames trickling, may actually be. 

The moment she saw him, a part of her had walked out of her frail body and hung onto him, as if her heartstrings had also coiled ignorantly around his own – never unknotting for the pain would be surreal without him to guide her, for she had never had anyone to protect her from her own internalised fears... even if that did mean he stole the faith out of her for remittance.

And he knows this too. Kylo's face twitches into amusement and heat, eyes of a panther and a wolfish grin to unmistakably match. She was his, and she knew of it. He could see the conflict dwindling in her hopeless gaze as he held her chin between his fingers, his other hand limply held up by his cuff.

The heat of her red cheeks, were engraved into the stone of his own heart. Kylo Ren could have never expected that a monster of a man, could ever care for woman who was intended to become one of his many victims overtime – but remarkably with that same time, he had come to grow a fondness over the little mouse, whose tail had wrapped around his pinky finger. 

No matter what she thought, the patient wouldn't kill her and leave her for the dead to nibble on her remains, for her heart was his for the taking and he would be the only one to savour it. 

She should have stayed further away, for her own protection... but now, Eve only fears the trepidation of losing him and as she leans closer into his hand, she opens her mouth with the intention of telling him that they should be quick, for she had made a _terrible mistake._

But – all at once, that very mistake had announced itself before her treachery could have slipped from her own loose lips... when the sounds of chains began to swing and chime from around them, and the Father of the hopeless, atrocious manor, walked beneath the light of the recreant moon and brought a squad of guards with him.

"I–" The Sister sobs as her guilty betrayal was finally brought to the place in which she had told Father Hux, the patient would be – but she didn't want this anymore, she wanted to sell her soul and beg the devil to turn back time so she doesn't have to remember the way Kylo's face had slightly fallen at the sound of the preacher calling his name from behind.

 _This wasn't a part of the plan_ – Kylo Ren had made sure that nobody had seen him sneak out of his cell and meet his Eve beneath the eyes of the crying Virgin Mary. Struck with shock for the first time in forever, and as he is left pondering how the ginger bastard had found out about their only chance of escaping, it isn't until a gun is cocked to the back of his head and Eve cries at the violent notion, Kylo realises who was responsible... for the guilt is riddled in the tears she weeps.

 _"Eve..."_ He lets go of her chin limply and rasps beneath his breath, but Father Hux had heard him utter the brusque name.

Guard Roberts' gun was, _this time,_ fully functional and loaded. He looks over to the Priest and back to the silver pistol sunk into the waves of the patient's long black hair, with an arrogant grin and eyes which seem almost drunk on power.

Father Hux swallows down the growl which tried to escape his throat, and steps slowly from out of the shadows, his pale and thin hands gripping the cross which hangs around his neck. The moonlight created a halo around the fiery flames he had for slicked back hair and the incandescently wicked expression upon his face. 

A flighty, little whimper echoed, coming from the Sister who fully regrets what she had done. It should have sent a shiver down Kylo's spine, but it went straight to his groin – even if his guts were cramping at the mere thought of her not being a mouse, but rather a rat for speaking to the Father about their plans.

"Drop to your knees, inmate." Father Hux suddenly snapped, spit flying passed his lips and falling upon the Virgin Mary behind the patient. 

Kylo Ren failed to move. The inmate is still staring back at the Sister, not even blinking, nor moving his chest enough to let her know he was even breathing. 

"Patient 727, get on your knees now. Or else this time, a bullet _will_ be shot and force you down instead!" Hux shouted, eyes searching the expressions both on Kylo's face, and the Sister's – the devil on his shoulder gasped and whispered something about the pair into his ear and his icy eyes widened at a sudden realisation.

The way the Father had spat such a cruel threat, made all the blood drain from Eve's face. Riddled with anxiety and the feeling of powerlessness, sweat prickled at the nape of her neck and her skin rose with an army of cold goosebumps. 

_This was all her fault._

_Yes, this was all her fault_ – thought Kylo. But he couldn't blame her, for he was an evil man who never deserved her bounty. His gaze lingered upon her supple lips, noticing the way they quivered with culpability and then said,

"Kylo..." She whispered, intending only for him to listen but there were many ears that almost rang his name, which shouldn't have been spoken by the Sister, "Kneel to the ground, and they won't hurt you." She promised, but Kylo knew that she had no power against the violence which he will endure later, so he stayed standing until she winced and cried softly, 

" _Please."_

She needed him and he knew this to be true, for the vulnerable Eve still searched for guidance from the snake in the garden, after she had been exiled for the sins in which the serpent had coaxed her to do. 

Eve hadn’t meant any harm, just as Kylo had never willingly meant to hurt her, but his inner darkness always seemed to blind him and take over his motives whenever she was intoxicating him by her mere closeness and the taste of her addictive lips. 

Again, all she received was silence for a short second as Guard Roberts' fingers were beginning to tighten around the trigger, and Hux was staring so sharply at her, trying to read what is going on behind her veiled mind – though he definitely understands what was happening between the pair, now. 

The patient didn't look deadly, nor threatening anymore – just shocked and suddenly startled at her mere words, for it meant that she cared more about him than he had previously thought. 

Then, Kylo Ren's rosy lips stretched into a wide smile as recognition flickered across his handsome face and he only nodded slowly once, before sinking to his knees – almost bowing over his Eve's feet. 

The trembling Sister hesitated to lay her watery eyes upon the man who had collapsed immediately to his knees, not after growing tired of throwing his bound hands upon the faces of the guards but simply letting them sadly fall to his lap at her mere request for him to concede, though his lips still snarl as the men gather around him, even closer. 

Her eyes meet the cruel ones of Father Hux. Her tears gave enough truths away.

"I'm sorry." The Sister sobs, not realising the reprimand that will occur as Father Hux squints his eyes upon the apology, while the patient is kicked to further into the ground, falling upon his shackles and smearing the side of his prominent face into the cold, hard floorboards.

Sucking a sharp breath at the sound of his body harshly smashing into the ground, Eve tries to take a step closer as the fright begins to build in every pore of her skin, but the guards seem to push her out of the way to tackle and restrain the patient, who was nothing but compliant and never fought back, when he seriously had enough rage pent up in his body, that he could use with the force of his threatening blows.

Her stomach twisted as Kylo's eyes closed for a second, refusing to look back up to Hux and all the guards who were now surrounding him, shackling him further and stabbing syringes into his veins. He went slack and was sedated in only the matter of a few beats, for his warm heart was pulsing the blood through his body at tremendous speeds, unable to comprehend that someone could possibly want it and all of its deadliness. 

His eyes drooped to the back of his head slowly, and then, all he saw was darkness... but he dreamt of Eve in the garden as the drugs took over.

She bites down on her bottom lip to refrain from accidentally sobbing out loud again, but the back of her throat still makes a pathetic noise. Eve might as well give up as easily as Kylo had, for she had given the Father enough reasons to believe that there was an illicit and debauched dalliance occurring between the two of them... _it would have been safer to run away with the prisoner instead of seeking out the preacher for help._

Father Hux interlocked his fingers and held them in-front of his body as he stood beside Eve, and above the vicious patient. He glared at the insurgent below, but his inner demons were all growling at the woman by his shoulder. There was no doubting before, that the Sister was keeping certain parts of herself hidden, but the tears she wept for the patient, proved _care._

It could even be more than care, the ricocheting tears could be wept with devotion, tenderness, and divinity. She had as much blood on her hands as the prisoner did – and to Hux, he believed that she had grown attached to the manipulative devil, and therefor she was _guilty_ of treason to the light of his Lord.

It was despicable, and it made the preacher feel sick. Perhaps, like Kylo Ren – she was a lost hope and there was no way in which his enlightenment could heal her, for her ears are deaf to all whispers but the one she had ignorantly and bewilderingly given her soul over to. She's a shadow wearing the clothes of a prospect, and as he put all of his theories and evidence which he had collected during his time spent, _carefully_ watching her – Hux only found her poisonous guilt as a mask to the immoral mask of dishonour she now became evilly blinded by. 

Flicking his eyes between the pair of _star-crossed_ sinners, the Father of White-Ivy felt as if his halls had been tinctured with the grime of transgression and he knew that he had to perish the home from all misdemeanours, with his own executional reprisal. 

The Lord had created _Armitage Hux_ with the purpose of slaying the demons who had attached to the minds of his fellow mortals. Armitage remembers the very day his own father had told him that, _t_ _he devil doesn't like anybody, in fact, he hates everybody. Though, he cannot reach the spirit in the sky, so he lays his punches upon his children instead, and because of that, there must be someone strong enough to stand up to the devil and protect the mortal world with the aid of light and prosperity._ And ever since that day, young Hux has known that it was his purpose in life, to be the defender between the punches, whilst also throwing his own back with pardoning from his gracious God. 

"Guards, hand me the keys." He snaps to one of the men who is patting down the sides of Kylo Ren's legs, attempting to find weapons but only finding the silver set in which he had _taken_ from Eve.

Handing him the set, Hux jingled them in the air for a split second and scoffed at his own reflection, before nodding his head back to Guard Roberts, who was faintly disappointed that he didn't get to put the hound down, _tonight._

"Take him to the operating theatre." The Father said to the guard and his fellow men, who all nodded at once and worked on picking the inmate up and hassling him down the eerie hallway. The Sister stands stiffly in place, staring with a distanced gaze at the Virgin Mary, silently praying that Kylo Ren will be only thrown back into his cell, and not given any more scars to add to his savage collection.

The hazy look in Eve's wide but sad eyes is a flashing beacon that shows she is afraid, but all she does is remain standing petrified the stare of the statue, whilst her breathing hastens, the intense rhythm of her heartbeat undergoes an irregular count, hammering quicker than a lightning bolt as she peeks at Father Hux with her peripheral vision, just in time to watch his fingers curl into tight fists and his back straighten even further.

Armitage Hux ran his tongue along his teeth, trying to suck the poison from his tone out of his mouth, but there was no swallowing the rage within his soul. 

"You." Father Hux swiftly turned on his heal and pointed his finger right into the Sister's face.

She flinched at the sudden gesture, eyes lingering at his finger and then to the wicked and harmful expression upon his pale face – which was a drastic and cold change from the diligent warmth he had given to her, when she confessed that she had _misplaced_ her keys.

He huffed a small breath and tried not to roll his eyes at the innocent way her lips quivered. Father Hux shook his head and sneered, "It is your duty to take care of the demon in which the Lord has given you the task of alleviating. It is required that you join us... and that you punish your inmate for the crimes in which he had committed."

He saw the shock register on her face before she could hide it and a small smile played on his lips, as Kylo Ren was still being lugged down he hall and onwards to the operating theatre, where Hux's creativity really... _blossomed._ Although, Eve is only left feeling so incredibly confused by his words – they were harsh like knives, coated by poison in an extraordinary sort of way, but he delivers them with such a richness of his tones, luxurious and quick, as if he truely didn't conjure up his own thinking, but it really was either the Lord or the devil, controlling him.

Eve shook her head, her voice barely above a whisper as a nervous lump rose in the middle of her tight throat, "Father, you said that you wouldn't discipline Patient 727, when I told you about him taking my keys."

The Father laughed low. 

How dare she act innocent, when she is anything but.

His revenge will be bittersweet. Both her, and the inmate will pay for their ongoing sins, and because it seemed that all he had done over the past few weeks hadn't left a deep enough impact and mark upon either of them... he will have to give up and truely do what he had never wished to do. 

"That, I did. An _–Sister."_ He nearly slipped.

 _Angel._ That was the word that nearly fell right out of his mouth. Father Hux once thought that the Sister was everything holy, everything perfect and graceful. She was to be his angel as a reward from the Lord for all his hard work, but the devil had given her away before her wings could be fully developed and fluttered over to Hux. The Sister was no angel. She was a tempting, fallen vixen. A little, plump, seductress and temptress dressed up in the layers of a holy soul and speaking with words of purity, until she was pushed over the edge of heaven and her devout was stabbed by the gates of hell in which she crashed upon.

He smirked and rose his hand up slowly, narrowing his eyes at the way she slightly winced when he brushed her pink cheeks with the back of his cold fingers, "But I only promised that _I_ wouldn't teach the bastard a lesson...I never vowed that another wouldn't castigate him."

_He's going to force her to punish Kylo Ren, even when the worst torture so far was the fact that she had ratted him out._

His words had the same effect as whatever drugs the guards had injected into Kylo Ren moments ago, did. The fear that struck her after Hux had spoken, was paralysing and spread through every inch of her body like dry ice. All at once, Eve understands that the cruelest punishments are to come, and even though the Father hadn't specified that she would be condemned, there was torture bestowed in the mere idea of having to be the one who brings agony to Kylo. 

She feels as bound as the patients of White-Ivy. Fright is her shackles, and trepidation is the bars of her metaphorical cage which is almost leaving her breathless with the tight feeling of claustrophobia as Father Hux's eyes force her to shrink below him, somewhat thinking that the preacher had the ability to read her mind. She attempts to cower away from his intrusion, but he's already tearing through the cavities of her mind, her thoughts and all of her secrets which she kept for Kylo Ren.

He tuts and raises a coy brow, "Is there a problem, Sister?" 

Eve's mind is kaleidoscope of broken hues but as his icy eyes peer into it, he replaces it with a void which was made of pure darkness. It's heavy, suffocating. It covers everything in his path as he tries to find whatever he is looking for and there is no room for light to come and _save_ Eve anymore. 

It's the same inkling that probably allows rabbit's hair to raise whenever it senses foxes around. The Sister can suddenly picture Father Hux moving and watching from the shadows, see the slow, graceful roll of his shoulders, and the purse of his lips whenever he finds the act of a sin beneath his roof. 

Eve knows that _he_ knows – but neither of them say it out-loud, and even if she was brave enough to confess, the Sister believes that she wouldn't be able to even finish her words before his fox-like teeth have sunk into her rabbit-flesh. 

_Again,_ this was all her fault. She wished that she had never told the priest and instead, faced the barbaric nature of Kylo Ren in liberty – for at least the patient would kill her quickly as he had done so with all of his other victims, whereas there is a faint notion that Hux would be the one that finds thrill from the torture, as if he loves the screams of the demons in which he tries to _heal._

Staring into his eyes, Eve regrets fleeing from Kylo, and never Hux. She presumed that the preacher would help her and sway her away from the inmate, for her devotion was clouding her mind. But it was never clouded, she was only blind of the real evil lurking in the shadows. Hux had saved her from the man who could have been the one to give her all that she has ever needed... but who would save her from the preacher who had the ability to take away everything in which she had previously tried to keep when she asked for his _duplicitous_ aid?

Eve buries her head down, trying to keep her pride, but she knows that the man in-front of her is about to tear it right from her soul. And when he hums beneath his breath and slightly scoffs shortly after, she looks back up to him and says with a flat tone, _"No, Father."_

Hux smiled at her blissful ignorance. If only she knew that it _wasn't_ Kylo Ren, who was going to be punished tonight. 


	20. NINETEEN

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long to update, my wattpad account lowkey got hacked and I was locked out of it <3

The ominous darkness which looms every corner, level and staircase of White-Ivy, is nothing but the playground for the devil to play and wonder upon. The rising moon may peek through the high windows like a glowing eye, watching the feast of the shadows indulge upon the mind's of all those who live inside, but whenever the light meets the void in which the devil brings, it retreats for there is nothing crueler than what can happen when nobody is watching. 

He's the darkness which stirs inside the souls of many. He is the deviant shadow in which nobody sees, but follows them everywhere they go. Lucifer lingers with a waltzing, joyful step. He chuckles and rejoices at the pleasure of catching the sight of guards hauling a man onto a hospital bed, who could even frighten his heart, _if he had one –_ for Kylo Ren was a lost soul, but never floated to neither the light, nor the dark. 

Kylo Ren was a man who if he had enough power, he would most definitely attempt to battle both sides of purgatory. He was a shadow, but not one of Lucifer's servants – which is why the devil kept a careful eye upon him, as did the cautious spirit in the sky. 

Kylo himself, lives in the grey area of both the mortal world and the afterlife. He lives by his own set of rules and omens. He did evil things, but only because he _seriously_ believed that he was saving the rest of the world from much worse, whilst also enjoying the way his victims would scream when he cut them just as sadistically. 

Kylo Ren wasn't exactly the incarnation of a devil yet, for he is still tender and flesh – but Lucifer does not even think that there will ever be enough room in hell for his darkness to slither in the way it does upon the land of free. He has danced with angels and fought demons, but refuses to be labelled either. His skin is as cold as snow, as pure as a winter's breath, but his heart is as fiery as the heated flames below his feet. No God orders him, and no heaven will ever let him in. The devil has watched him closely, just as Kylo has felt his fingers upon his shoulders and heard subtle whispers of degeneracy in his ear – but he was yet to listen to Satan, and instead, did turpitudes which were only brutally created in the chaos of his own mortal heart. 

_So,_ when Kylo Ren was becoming nothing but an adversary or an opponent to the devil, Lucifer was pleased to find that a certain child of the Lord, was slowly becoming Kylo's inner war-zone's white flag. Eve was a weakness in the making, she was a repented and exiled, Holy Ghost of a mortal but she was innocently and naively summoning a shadow much more dangerous than she had anticipated, to forget about the ongoing battle between light and dark, for she was all that his eyes and crazed mind, gravitated onto.

The devil would have to give Kylo Ren some credit, though – he had done a remarkable job in luring the young Eve in, even if he didn't expect to push aside his sociopathic tendencies and remarkably etch her name upon the stone of his evil heart. He too, surges through the halls – but only the long paths of Eve's tangled mind. He plays with her thoughts and lives in both her nightmares, and her wildest dreams. The young Sister hadn't expected to fall so chaotically and dangerously for the patient, but just like Lucifer, God had kicked her out of the _promised_ land, and now she only listens to the _promises_ within the seductive voice of Kylo's, who has become her new guidance as he proves that without the light and dark, she could be truely free... if she dared to follow his alluring lead.

And Lucifer was bewildered to find that she had not yet gathered enough bravery to follow the condemned prisoner, for the hole in the fence really was an opportunity to become greedy upon the perilous chance of liberty without the walls caging both Kylo, herself and the devil into the same home. 

The night is no longer young, and the phantom of freedom is haunting her hallowed soul. No longer is there anything to cling onto, for her own hands and mind was the very thing in which kept her trapped in White-Ivy. The Sister had confessed only to the evil priest, because she was scared – and fear makes humans do _beyond_ foolish things. When Kylo Ren had asked her to take his hand and leave, she feared an unknown future. Eve had caged off her own heart, for the luring promise of what may be considered devotion, is something that she has never understood, and what she was feeling for Kylo Ren is bound to become the death of her. 

But perhaps now, as she truely lives through the torture of her sweet _love,_ suffering – she understands that to live without fear, one must be brave and lurk without the boarders and cages because with sacrifice and kneeling below the nature of fright, there will always be consequence from something much worse.

Deep in the darkest levels of White-Ivy Penitentiary, the operating theatre has an ominous chill within the air and a sense of nothing but doom and unpropitious termination of all things good. The agonised screams which echo loud through the leading halls, drains away what little confidence and creed in which the painted portraits of angels and saints upon the walls, should give. But it seems even the sacred art is wincing at the sounds of electricity and torture, and turning their backs to the sight of the preacher being the one watching the downfall of Eve's hope. 

The devil stood beside Father Hux, watching everything unfold with the same evil look in his eyes, as did the gaze of blue that Hux had wickedly set upon the silver chains that are connected to the Sister's wrists, chaining her to the device in which the Father had created with the intention of proving his devout to his God – even though, the devil was saving him a warm seat below his clawed feet, in the afterlife.

A record player is set up in the corner of the room and from the spinning disc, plays a song on repeat loudly. A light and happy melody of two voices sing, a man and a woman cheerily and lovingly rejoicing about how the world could be wonderful – all while Kylo Ren thrashes and screams against restraints which pin him to a hospital bed in the middle of the room beneath heavy lights, and Eve cries over a lever which her hands are bound to, that sends electricity soaring into his already damaged temples, and all throughout his bones and cold-blood. 

Kylo's wrists were bloody where he'd pulled and twisted to try and free himself from the leather straps keeping him to the mattress, and his face had become flushed green, but occasionally fades completely pale, whenever Eve presumes he is about to pass out but the voltage won't allow his consciousness to fade as his adrenaline is electrified.

Eve's knuckles were bloody both from trying to punch away the chains in which the guards had eventually clipped easily onto her wrists, and from gripping onto the lever so tightly and biting against her hands to stop from screaming out loud – but it really didn't matter, everyone could see the pain _she_ was enduring just by watching _him_ in pain. 

The cheery music mixed with the sounds of Kylo's agony, is driving Eve passed the brink of insanity and she has to try and only focus on her own sounds of depressive misery, in order to continue pushing down on the lever, and punishing Kylo Ren for something in which they both deserved to be wailing for, _but not this violently._

It's easy to slip into the mindset that torture by the music is more of an irritant than the way in which she is forced to abuse Kylo, but the more his brain is pushed to fry and sizzle due to the strikes of pure lightning which are being sent through the live-wires attached to his temple, the more her grip loosens. Eve had been electrocuted only once before, and it was when she unplugged a bedside lamp and the cord had sent a volt through her fingertips, which was nothing more than a slight tingle and shudder that tip-toed beneath her skin. But this was much more brutal, much more wicked. Kylo Ren was convulsing and had scratched up every single muscle in his throat as he cried out for her to stop, and even though she wanted to give him mercy and stop his pain, both of them knew that she couldn't for she would pay the ultimate price. 

She had branching trails of blood down the side of her mouth from where she had sunk her teeth into her own hands. The Sister doesn't know how long it has been since she was forced to thud the lever down and send the voltage to come alive, but time seemed to fade or become unreliable as the music only looped again, _and again._

It sped up and slowed down and generally became meaningless, an unfortunate side effect of situations like this. She was sobbing uncontrollably, and choking on her own wretched sounds of misery. Through the heaviness of tears and snot, Eve forced her eyes to focus once again upon Kylo, who tried to keep his eyes on her but it was difficult to see her through his own bleary vision from involuntary tears of torture and the exhaustion of extended stress.

"Let me stop!" She had eventually turned around to meet the cruel gaze of the Father, who had a swarm of guards all watching from around him. Kylo's wailing had begun to settle, making the music seem louder and more antagonising, but when she had noticed his eyelids begin to flutter violently, she had to bring the lever down and beg over the roar of the melody and the bed-frame squeaking, "Please, Father!" 

Kylo's hands clenched above the thick metal cuffs at his wrists, as a wave of depleted fury began to cover up the tremors that then ricocheted and coursed through him even more destructively at the shattered and clouded thought of Eve having to pay for pleading for his own sparing. 

Eve had pulled the lever halfway down, but it was yet to turn off – electric currents were still humming like little fire-ants beneath Kylo's skin, biting, pricking and injecting their venomous shock right into his blood. 

With only Eve's haggard breath, Kylo's slight groans and the loud burst of music – the Sister's ears ping sharper with the sound of her heartbeat and her mind dead-ends like a road of paranoia. Her dress and veil are both clung to her wet, sweaty skin and the smell of Kylo's burnt flesh is what her brain only tries to focus on, whilst her body is stuck between the options of flight, fright or faint – the latter option lingering within the dots that blur her foggy vision. 

As she pleaded with the preacher who was yet to even blink or show any sign of emotion – Kylo Ren finally lulled his heavy head to the side, and as scrambled as his brain had to be by now, Kylo still found a way to force itself to never lose sight of his Eve, for she was the only thing that was keeping him gripping onto his memories as she is being forced to send volts into his brain in attempts to make it nothing but empty.

The charred flesh, the texture, the skin peeling off his melted temples was savagely brutal, but nothing could stop him from fighting – for he knew that the Father was finding more enjoyment from watching Eve struggle, than himself. 

Father Hux turned his face to the guard beside him, who nodded at the silent cue and rushed to the Sister's side – unshackling her from the lever, but she was yet to uncurl her white knuckles from around the switch, fearing what the priest would do to her shortly after.

Eve gasps, trying to catch her breath or possibly gather her last shred of dignity as the music fades quietly, only to repeat once again. Father Hux keeps a watch of her face, the sweat beads dripping from the top of her veil and slipping down her cheeks, mixing with the tears in which he knows she cries for Patient 727. 

The lever is dead-bolted into the wall, and without the chains connected to the railing around it, Eve slightly falls onto her knees, catching her breath and looking up with those same glowing eyes of treachery and sin. The Father of the manor once found comfort in her gaze, but now he cannot seem to ignore the churns of utter loathing in his jealous stomach. It's malicious, the feeling he craves for her, and he doesn’t expect the Sister to heed his demands anymore, for her allegiance is clearly no longer with the Lord.

The Sister still hadn't shut the machine which was sending electric currents into Kylo's body, off yet. She was waiting patiently for the Father to give her a direction, for she feared what the man would do to her when she puts Kylo's needs first, before her own – the perfect and undeniable act of devotion. Her hearts crossing and loss of light was no longer a secret, everyone in the operating theatre with the right mind could tell that the Sister was being tortured just as much as Kylo Ren.

She's exhausted and as the song fades again, her eyes slowly dropped, and black was all she could see. Some selfish part of her suddenly wished that Kylo would scream again or shake her awake, that his cries of agony would lull her to back into consciousness, for the void in the back of her head which her eyes rolled to, was where her very own demons lingered – but when she fought against the weight of her eyelids again, her sight was trapped into the cruel stare of icy blue, and the rise of a smirk below.

"Say the words, Sister." Father Hux said in a voice that betrayed no shadow of emotion, no sign of relief or fear or even joy. 

His sombreness was practiced and controlled, his expression plain. And when he glanced from Kylo Ren and back to the Sister, the echoing emptiness in his eyes daunted her, "You're in total control, but do understand what will be the true consequence of _your_ mercy." 

The tears in her eyes are only the charms to her betrayal. Hux found it endearing how much she stooped in the trenches of misery, but his heart growled with jealousy that it was the condemned patient upon the hospital bed, who had the Sister's virtue, heart and the corpse of her morality, sitting in the palms of his hands and upon his snake-like tongue. 

The Sister shakes her head and sobs against the switch, somewhat leaning upon it and sending a rather harmful wave of lightning to Kylo's temples – he thrashed once more in his bed, but stifled his sounds in hopes to prove to the woman who had put him in this situation in the first place, that he had the capability to handle more before she gets herself into trouble – although, Kylo Ren really didn't know how much more he could take before the hooded veil of death attempts to take his hand. 

His vision is blurred, but he keeps his eyes in her direction... though Eve isn't looking at him anymore, she's stuck in the eye-line of the coy but sadistic preacher. 

Nearly suffocating on her own sobs, the Sister swallows harshly and refuses to blink back to the ginger man. Gathering what remained of her sense of self, Eve felt as if she was kneeling in some kind of purgatory and all she had was the tools of her own mouth and pleads of lies.

"There is nothing meaningful connected to my mercy, Father –" She tried, her deceit falling off her tongue as vomit would, _quick and grotesque,_ "... I simply cannot witness the patient be in pain by my own hand, anymore."

The Father took a subtle step forward, and his nostrils flared as he snapped, "Speak another lie beneath the watchful eye of God again, and I will be certain to punish you on His behalf, Sister."

His detachment was painful and there was no remorse swirling in the dangerous oceans of his eyes.

Eve felt the coldness of his threat biting into her bones, chilling her to the very core. She knew the temperature couldn’t drop any lower, and yet – this felt like hell. 

Kylo shuddered and couldn't hold back an excruciating moan as the pain bursted through his mind – the black veils of his beautiful Eve, switched into the figure of death. This was all her fault, but he could _never_ blame her, for Kylo Ren was a vicious man and even he was never fully honest with her... always leaving her balancing on a tightrope of trust, and enjoying the way she would crash down to the ground brutally, whenever he blew upon her.

Eve turned to Kylo's sound and widened her eyes at the way his pale flesh had turned blue and even the life of a monster, faded from the murk of his eyes. 

She turned back to Father Hux.

 _Evil._ The word resounded within her with dreadful familiarity. They're stuck in what almost feels like a standoff, she's awaiting him to pull out his metaphorical gun and blow the bullet as soon as she makes the move to flee to his rival. 

The tormenting song was still playing and spinning beneath the needle of the gramophone. Her nostrils are still burning from the copious clouds of billowing smoke that had polluted the air, the moment she had been forced to switch the torture contraption on – even if it was intended to be used for healing and therapy purposes. 

Hux stares intently, watching her hands flex and relax around the lever, all while she contemplates her future as she watches him just as closely – him, in his full attire of creed, a body of a man who was thin, but still lean enough to give off the illusion of strength. 

"Father, I confess..." She whispers as her teardrops ricochet upon the floor and around her kneeling frame. Eve lifts her head back to Father Hux and wails at the twisted expression upon his pale face, "– Please forgive me, I live in fear of your punishing, but I cannot do this anymore! You're killing him!"

The preacher doesn't even flinch.

"I'm killing him?" He retorts smoothly. Eve hesitates, but he only continues with a lift of a brow, "Your hand is upon the lever, not mine. Let go, _child..._ if that is what you wish."

She knew what it meant. Eve looks horrified by the threat hidden in the kindness he suddenly gives. She clears her throat and despite the obvious fear, nods her head, but only to the whispering voice in the back of her mind – which is telling her that there is no fight left within either of them, _Kylo Ren and herself._

Father Hux will be the one to end them – and there is nothing she can do about it, for there was never supposed to be a _them,_ anyway.

There's nowhere to flee, she's as trapped as Kylo Ren is – and when the patient groans once more, she limply lets her fingers slide off the switch, after clicking it off and dropping her head and shoulders.

Tiredly, Eve tries to get back on her feet but her body feels as spent as if she was the one strapped to the bed in which she now practically crawls over to. 

"I'm sorry..." She whispers as she pulls herself to Kylo Ren's side and moves the soaked and limp hair from out of his eyes. 

To Kylo's surprise, she doesn’t immediately retract back into her own shell of dismissal as she always would, in order to rightfully protect herself from the eyes in which are constantly watching her – but instead, the first thing she does is place her warm hands upon him, no longer caring who sees for the minds behind the stares upon her broken wings, already know who she had plucked each feather for and asked if he loves her or loves her not, in the way a child would whisper to the pulling of rose petals.

Her soulful eyes have faded, but she still looks contemplative, and Kylo only just watches for a moment, wondering what Eve might be thinking. Is she ashamed at how deep she's gotten into this? Or does she no longer listen to her own subconscious, for it will be the voice of haunting insanity? 

He didn't even realise that the buzz was no longer coursing through him, for when his Eve placed her delicate and warm fingers upon his body, he was galvanised as if she had hands of thrill.

_"Eve..."_

The intoxicating heat of his breath was caught in the passing, and even though his skin was melting, he still smelt like pure decadence – but perhaps, the Sister truely is insane and fails to sense any wrong part of him. His scent was intoxicating and as she heard his deep, rough and distraught voice, her heart nearly pulsed through her heaving ribs.

She could've avoided all of this, if she had fled with Kylo Ren as the clock stuck midnight. But liberty would only come at a greater cost, for without chains Kylo could hold her for a few moments with those strong, assured hands. Hands she knew would likely be covered in someone’s else’s or her own blood, sooner or later.

She smiles tiredly back to him, tears slipping into her dry mouth, "Kylo..." The Sister uttered with her heavy conscience, "I'm _so_ sorry."

He had no breath to spare, but the patient tried to assure her that he understood, as they both no longer cared about their surroundings.

Everything about Kylo screamed danger to the point hairs stood on the back of her neck when in his presence – but the adrenaline in her bones was what glued her right beside him. Maybe foolishly, that’s why she was so curious about him. A part of her wanted to know what made him tick and understand the cruel world in the same way he perceives it so incongruously. 

Eve had never seen him so vulnerable, and it didn't sit right with her, the way he had no fight left within him. But strangely, he could have tried to brawl with the guards and Hux, when they were circling him beneath the weeping eyes of the Virgin Mary... _but he didn't._

It was the same as the day he had told her to scream and pretended as if he was doing atrocious things to her, _against her will,_ and like that day, something in her gut told her it wasn’t by mistake. 

Kylo Ren didn’t make mistakes. His many murders which she had researched and read from the headlines in papers, could attest to that. Everything he left behind was orchestrated and he has never failed to refrain from saying _why_ he killed. All the facts and evidence known about him were planted just as he wanted. He was using the world as a chess game and he was always at least five steps ahead. 

He had obeyed and allowed them to strap him down to the hospital bed instead of fighting against the restraints, simply because _if_ he could still make it to the fence, there was nowhere he could actually go without her – for if he even had a soul, it now resides with her own. 

_And she feels the exact same._ Eve's already going to hell for him, so what does it matter if Hux tries to become the very being who sends her down first?

Lucifer was the embodiment of evil. Kylo Ren was a man who feared no evil. But it was Father Hux who was a thief of evil, who wore the mask of justice and nobility, but had a face of a monster below – he was a man who had many skeletons living in his closet, and he fed off the divine darkness which tangled in the minds of all the patients he _healed._

Shackles, nor chains, can't change what hides within the soul of Father Hux – for like _all_ in the mortal world, he has been touched by the devil, because Satan is not kind and will grope at all's feet, only to drag the weakest from beneath their sheets and pull them down to the pits of hell. 

And when Eve let go of the lever, all his darkness gnarled in his stomach, his skeletons began to scrape against the door of his metaphorical closet and silently, the devil even swarmed into the opening of his heart, feeding and sucking upon the wounds of his offence and injecting the lash of retaliation into what was left of him.

"You wretched whore!" He shouted, his sneering, high-pitched voice echoing against every wall in the theatre and as he crossed the room in a flash, his heavy footsteps made even the light above, flicker with fear. 

In one quick motion and before she even knows what is happening, Eve is choking against the fabric of her own collar as the Father forcefully fists the back of her clothes and veil, twists it and pulls her away from Kylo Ren's bed. Thrown back with a thud, she is surprised with the force of Father Hux's strength as she loses all the air from her lungs when she crashes back upon the ground. 

Gagging on oxygen when that is all she now desperately needs, the Sister's lungs are struggling to draw in the heavy, dry air of the sterile and eerie operating theatre, into her body, feeling it sear her lungs. But the torture doesn't finish there – before she can even open her eyes or pull herself back up, Father Hux has torn the veil from her head, ripping out strands of her hair with it and sending sharp pricks to the back of her scalp.

When she screams a piercing cry, all Kylo Ren could do was wince and slowly fall back into a state of pure, blissful darkness as Hux groped his angel's chin and scowled. His eyes are the houses of horrors. His mouth speaks words of formidable fury.

"It is your own guilt and remorse for the devil in which I fear." He slaps her cheek with his right, cold hand, but does not let her chin go with the left – causing her neck to stiffen with what could only be whiplash. He continues, ignoring her sounds of anguish, "I see through all your lies. You have lost yourself to the darkness and there is no coming back!"

The Sister's breath was ragged, cheeks were bright pink, eyes dull and her entire body pulsing from the pain as bruises begin to form upon all her joints due to the fall. When the Father smacked her harshly again, blood dripped from her bottom lip and her nose, causing scarlet to slowly cascaded down her chin and neck.

Most of her field of vision was filled by the moist and occasionally dripping, brick ceiling above, because she was forcing her eyes up instead of facing the smug profile of her greatest adversary.

Pride cracking at her silence, Father Hux slapped her again – this time letting her chin free from his prodding grip, and allowing her face to move with the whack. 

Eve cried but made no effort to look back to the ginger-haired man. Now looking only at Kylo, she felt saddened that his eyes were closed for his dark-brown gaze was not present to bring her strength when she truely needed it. 

This was happening because of her – who knows where Kylo and Eve could have been right in this moment, if she had not consoled with the Priest out of her fear of uncertainty? 

When she closed her eyes, she saw a flash of a beautiful garden and the tears which cascaded down her face were the coolness of the crashing waterfalls within the paradise. But Eve hesitantly forced herself to escape the sanctuary of her own imagination though, for the devil was still peering down at her – waiting for a response. Blue finally met her gaze, but she held it with determination as the tears flooded her vision unwillingly. 

With words of weapons, he sharpened them like knives as the Sister was kneeling at his feet, "You are nothing but a foe to the Lord, and a servant of Satan." Hux spat, "There is no space in the light for you anymore and neither is there hands of leniency to come for your burdening."

She was on the verge of passing out but his sentence sent a shiver down her spine that woke her up. How could he know about Kylo and her? She wondered in the span of a heartbeat, only for her subconscious to scream over the thud, that it was blatantly obvious – maybe, she had truely lost her mind, for her wit seems to have left her hollow brain. It didn't matter though, Eve no longer cared for she was doomed either way. Kylo and her were bound to get caught from the start, there was no point hiding anymore.

She swallowed roughly, and it felt as if she was choking on broken glass as she did so, but her eyes never left Hux's. When Eve finally spoke, her voice was soft, but not from strain – though, God knows it should have been after all she had been through tonight, and even in the passing weeks. It was as dark and deadly as she had ever heard it, and something in her chest clenched as her own taunt, reminded her of the way Kylo would antagonise his own rivals.

"What are you going to do to me, Father?" She cocked a brow and tried to smile, but her lips still melted back to her chin as a saddened sob tried to lurch up her throat and make her seem weak again. 

When Hux's mouth slightly parts as the shock of her tone strikes him – silently, the devil punches his glorious but dampened heart. 

His face twisted and his eyes sharpened upon all her imperfections, casting her out of his inner-sanctum as if she truely was scarred by the wretched devil, when in fact all of her wounds were brought by his own mere hands – for a soul that tries to heal one of wickedness, can forevermore, no longer nurse with good will. 

"Tell me, child..." He suddenly tuts, his calmness only the more spine-chilling, "Did you hand over your virtue to the patient?"

His question struck her harder than a fist ever could. The spinning song, even skips a little at the silence of her hesitation. 

"I–"

A rough hand grabbed a fistful of her hair and yanked so that the Sister was once again, forced to look at Hux and away from Kylo – who her eyes had instinctively searched for.

The Father screamed as he practically lifted her off her knees, "Tell me the truth! Are you still a pure virgin or did you let the filthy bastard ravish your glory?" He said, as she clawed at his hands. 

The Sister rolled her tongue around her teeth, working moisture into her mouth and delaying for time. She didn't want to be honest, she didn't wish to speak the truth and fully let everyone understand the mass of hysteria she must have induced, to pluck every single feather from her angel wings of faith, from her heart and soul.

And yet, she couldn't lie to the Father tonight. Not now, for he would only be able to smell her deceits from the sweat beading from her temples and see it swirling in the tears clouding her eyes. She blinked at the ceiling and wondered briefly if Kylo Ren would be waiting for her in hell after she is kicked out of White-Ivy, lives a sinful but boring life and then dies soundlessly at an elderly age, after waiting so long to be with him again, _freely._

Eve shook her head and looked back down, "... It doesn't matter if I handed him my chastity, Father." Their eyes were burning each-other's irises as they both smouldered fires of duplicity behind them. Eve whispered her next words, brave enough to speak them for all the guards and the Father to hear, but not intended for the ears of the man they were about, "For I have also given him my heart."

Hux immediately lets her hair slip from his fingers, as if they were converting soil and grime upon the mere touch, to his own hands. 

Eve only continues, "You may exile me from the church and monastery, but I cannot change. It was said that the Lord shows love for all, even while bound by sins... that is why he died for us."

The tears were audible in her voice now, but again, there was nothing she could do to soothe her fears anymore, and the silence which lingers after she is done, was too palpable to miss – leaving the only sound in the room to be the slight fizz from the cooling-down electric wires.

Father Hux was frozen still – as the guards behind them, gave weary glances to each-other. Armitage sucked in a breath, not even realising he'd been holding it, and the sound, ragged as it was, was enough to fuel his inner-demons.

All at once, an animalistic growl left the man's lips and he swung around, groping for something on the tray of tools beside Kylo's bed and knocking several others aside in his haste – but he wasn't searching for anything, Eve realised as she flinched when he only screamed loud and sent the surgical desk flying to the ground out of pure aggression. 

He whirled back, and pulled her back up by the collar – him too, meeting her halfway as their faces are only inches apart when he shouts right into her's, making even her wet tears, coil and retreat out of trepidation.

"He did not die for whores like you and wicked souls such as the one that lives in that demon!" He dropped her and pointed over to the passed-out, Kylo Ren. Looking up to the guards, Hux nodded once – giving a silent cue to the men, who understood clearly and moved in quick to lug the patient from the bed, off and mercilessly just placing him on the floor like a sack of flour.

Eve had fallen flat on her stomach, hitting her forehead against the concrete floor which was enough of an impact to bless her with the sight of stars. She laid lifelessly in the murky puddle of her own metaphorical treason, peacefully unaware of her surroundings for just a vague moment.

The music taunted her as it finished, only to play again, and again, and again.

Out of consciousness, Kylo's head only rolled against the chilly tiles and his limp hand extended across the ground – almost towards her, as if he always gravitated to Eve no matter if he was awake or trapped in the hauntings of his worst nightmares. 

Dazed and hunched over her own form upon the ground, Eve blinked _and_ blinked again, not sure if she was actually seeing him through the legs of the hospital bed, or if her emotional and physical agony, was finally causing hallucinations.

Father Hux stepped over her frame, "The devil had tempted you, and you deliberately went for what he had offered and let it overtake you. God is faithful, but I can promise you that there is no home for you in his cautious eye, for you have the stare of Lucifer upon your back."

Her trembling fingers reached for Kylo, no matter the distance between them. Hux's polished shoe crushed the bones. Beneath the grind of a heal, she heard a snap before she could even feel it. The Sister sucked in a sharp breath, somehow managing to not scream from the pure agony she was in. Blood rushed to her now broken finger which caused it to both swell and turn purple along with the already forming bruises in the dent of Father Hux's foot.

But the pain was too much when he only applied more pressure. She began to plead out of desperation, "F-Father, I will pray for the Lord to create in me a clean heart and renew a right spirit within!"

He stood away, carelessly brushing his clothes off and then twining his hands behind his back as he watched her writhe upon the floor. 

Without the pressure, the blood only now soared into her hand – causing an agonising pulse to thud violently beneath her broken skin and shattered bones.

"Silence. You have feared the Lord all along, and I cannot bare to listen to your loose-lips any longer." Father Hux spat, his voice devoid of any emotion, once again, "You have become not a pure child, but an omen who is unclean from all the righteous deeds in which you had tried to fabricate."

His words even unnerved the guards who stood around the worryingly, stiff body of Patient 727.

"– The devil prowls around your mind like a roaring lion, seeking to devour upon your glory and leaving nothing but insanity to linger in the empty space." He went on, "You have lost your wits and sanity, Sister. But fear not, for I am here for you and I will become your new guidance whilst the Lord leaves you an orphan."

She looked down at the ground, scared only to look at the mess of her hand and made a sound when she couldn't move two of her fingers. 

"Please, Father..." The Sister turned her head to the priest, her beautiful hair falling over her shoulders in the mess of clumped and knotted strands, and her face sickly pale, "I-I don't understand." She said, her chin wobbling.

He rolled his cruel eyes and let out an exasperated sigh, "You perfectly understand, that is why you tremble with remorse and agitation." He said clearly.

The music cracked and was silent for a skipping moment, only to begin all over again. 

Eve sobbed, feeling so impossibly broken that she doubts she could ever forget about the pain and treachery, when she is eventually exiled from the penitentiary – but Hux's next words were what could leave her a corpse of remorse, forever buried in the soil of these grounds of degeneracy. 

"You are transparent, but your flesh is scared with the sins you have performed. Sexual immorality, impurity, sensuality, idolatry, enmity, strife, jealousy... I see it all and I warn you now, as I had warned you before, that those who do such things will not inherit the kingdom of God... but instead a permanent home beneath my own ceiling."

The tears won't roll down and the screams won't escape past her quivering lips as a clash of ignorant realisation and dimwitted perplexity, thrash in the world-winds of her hallucinative mind. The pain upon her skin is excruciating, but the ache in her chest upon the priest's truth wrath, is deathly. 

"N-No." She breathed, feeling the walls crashing in on her and even the moon snickering at her defeat. The angels in the clouds are pointing their fingers upon her loss and crossing her name off the list of coming punishing, for a mortal of devout _– their beloved,_ has tormented her to the point of suffering. The Lord has brushed His holy hands off, whilst the devil only opens his with invitation as Eve knows suddenly, that she was about to be caged in a place much more diabolical than hell, _itself._

"You are no longer a child of God." The Father continues in a voice tainted by loathing. He gives threats, and hateful things are spoken as if he had remembered them from his bible, but Eve doesn't recall such barbarity taught from the pages – this savagery was only born in the nature of Hux's heart, "You are a _mere_ number. You are nothing but what the devil has left of your mind... a shambled, broken, insane... _patient."_

She screams and shakes her head.

The Father has the gall and nerve to laugh at her, but the way it sounds is so sultry and low, the exact kind of chuckle that even Lucifer would make whenever he knew he was about to get his way. Armitage Hux looks back over to the guards and speaks only three words to them – _three, final words..._

"Strap her down."

Suddenly, a hot and heavy hand had clamped over Eve's mouth from behind her head, almost slapping the air she tried to scream, right back into her chest. She groped blindly at the material of Guard Roberts' uniform, clawing her blunt fingernails into his sleeve, hoping that she would pierce skin – but her mere scrapes would not stop the older guard from pulling her thrashing body to the bed in which Patient 727 was once strapped to only moments ago, with the help of the two other guards who caught each of her kicking legs and held her down.

The Sister couldn't even hear her own sounds as her adrenaline was surging through every vein and her survival instincts were trying to fight against the restraints that the guards eventually used to bind her to the bed. 

The mattress smelt of Kylo Ren and the faint smell of ash. The leather cuffs were painted with Kylo's dried blood from before, and now they were digging into the skin of Eve's wrists and ankles too. The fear had returned with a vengeance. It lurked heavily in her chest and swallowed up her stomach, it lived in her veins and numbed the feeling of pain from her broken hand, only to stab her right in the heart and inject trepidation.

Gagging, choking and pleading through sobs and tears, the Sisters vision was nothing but blurry shadows and silhouettes through her scrunched eyelids. Voices were speaking against the repetitive music, but everything sounded as if they were downing beneath her own salty tears.

Eve was tearing through the muscles in her throat and when her screams became the only thing more annoying than the music in which Hux had played, he rolls his eyes and forces a gag of cloth, deep down her throat and between her teeth. Sweat is forming all over her skin, but the Sister's body is shaking as if she was freezing. Her lungs are filling, but she can't breathe. Everything is spinning and it feels as if the bed beneath her spine is melting. 

The thoughts are accelerating inside her head, and she wants them to slow down so she can focus on her breathing, but there is no halting the pique of terror and dread. 

When she feels something press against the side of her face, she flinches and tries to retreat away from whatever it is – and above the music, she makes out the sound of Hux's voice once more, as he scoffs at her resistance.

"Stop moving, or else something far worse will happen to you." The priest said, holding a syringe between his pale fingers – but Eve's eyes were still forcefully shut. 

She stilled immediately and obediently, but it was too late to behave in order to retreat away from her punishment. Hux's cold fingers found the pulsing, thick vein in her neck and without a second word or a hassle, he injected the full dose of drug, straight into her bloodstream.

The adrenaline was quick to carry the sedation to her heart and brain, but the cruel Father ensured that it wasn't a large enough dosage to knock her peacefully out, just enough to keep her nerves and brain awake, but shut down her ability to move and fight against her restraints. 

The sounds of the record spinning and the voices singing brightly through the speaker, echoed in the emptiness of her self-destructing mind. They sang of peace and the gratitude they had for all things good in the world, but the needle constantly skipped as if the devil was scratching the disc at the sound of bliss, whilst Eve was suffering for her deeds of all things bad.

Blissfully sedated, when Eve finally forces her eyes open and tries to focus on the figures which are now attaching wires to her temples and ensuring that her shackles are tight – all her eyes gravitate to is the blinding light above, that comfortingly reminds her of the glorious glow of the sun which God had created after heaven and earth. 

God created all, but he did not conjure up evil. Just as darkness is only the absence of light, evil is the absence of credence. It was God who was said to summon the grounds in which His children walk upon, but in the nature of darkness, the devil plagued all the good in the world and sent the mortals the deadliest disease, and they called it... _insanity._

Deep in the darkness of night, insanity and sin is lurking in the shadows which God did not expect to be a product of his creation, when he shaped the sun. For without the fiery sun, earth was without form, nothing but a void which chaotically allowed souls to sin without punishment, so He said – just as Father Hux did, when he pulled down the lever which sent electricity to spurt through the wires connected to Eve's brain...

_"Let there be light."_


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry for the delay, i forgot to update on ao3 lol

It was on the fifth day, Kylo Ren _really_ lost his mind.

He hadn't seen her since that night, and the last memory that his bruised mind had desperately grasped onto before he fell into a black hole of withering bliss, was the image of her wet face looking down at him, and her warm hands almost burning the memory into his skin as it also has in the back of his tortured brain.

The sadistic part in him – the tiny devil upon his shoulder, whispered words of loathing and hatred into his ear and made his veins run cold with an unwelcomed feeling of hurt and betrayal. Though his brain had been melted and fried beyond repair, he still couldn't seem to find any logic as to why she had told Father Hux about the plan of escape – he understood that it may have been because she feared him, but then why did she cry and plead for his sparing when he was strapped to the bed?

Perhaps, his little Eve didn't truely know what she wanted until it was too late. Kylo could only think of it as if the biblical Eve had never plucked the apple and refused to listen to the sly tongue of the snake in the garden, but then was forever rotting away as she wondered what sweetness that forbidden fruit could have brought to her yearning tastebuds. 

Kylo's not the one for apologies, in-fact he preferred to hear only people beg for forgiveness as he was already plunging his weapons into his victim's heart – but when Eve had whispered her remorse down to him, while the eyes of her faith all watch the treachery she bestowed in doing so, he knew one thing for certain.

She cared, and maybe too much for her own good. Kylo Ren had never been loved before, that and his own heart wasn't capable of producing such a thing either. Love was self-destruction in a mask of need. It's repentance which leads to salvational regret, and becomes the worldly companion of death itself – and though, he was still trying to figure out how the Sister could need and feel something further than passionate worship for him, Kylo presumed she was struggling with the comprehension as-well... for she had not crossed paths with him in four days.

Thunder may sound a warning, but it's too late for the lightning has already struck them both. Even Kylo is afraid that he may need further therapy, because his heart and mind is making noises – noises of pleads for her to come back to him. He's never felt this way before and for the first time in his whole life, he isn't able to hide, nor control his emotions. He cares for Eve, too.

And that is the only thing in which he sympathises for her, because his own hands will become the demise of her mortality.

The world is not fair. It is cruel and deadly, and the most merciless part of humanity is that the mortals upon the bombed, sinful land, somehow manage to find gold in the trenches of tragedy –but Kylo's guilty conscience is burning up in painful flames, for he doesn't want Eve to eventually find out that he is nothing but fools gold. A shine in the dark, but rotten on the inside. His darkness has always bled through, but Eve was as sick-minded as anyone in White-Ivy, for she only bandaged him back up and pretended as if she couldn't see the scarlet rising through the cotton of her devotion.

Kylo Ren threw his clenched fists against the walls of his cell and tried to punch through the cement as if he could still feel the fresh breath of liberty, seeping between the cracks of his permanent cage. His knuckles were bruised and sore, but the adrenaline coursing through his heavy veins was taking his tangled mind off the spin of his constant, annoying thoughts and wonders.

He had never been so lost before, usually he's ten steps ahead of everyone but Eve had completely swiped his feet from beneath him.

"727 –" A voice suddenly shouted, punching him harder out of his own mind than his forceful blows could ever lash out upon the walls, which keep slowly shrinking inwards and leaving the patient breathless with claustrophobia.

Ever since he had thrashed through the front doors of White-Ivy Manor, Kylo Ren had never responded to anyone who had replaced his name with a meaningless, denigrating number – but this time, when the guard pulled open the heavy metal door to his cell and placed his calloused hand upon the gun in his holster, Kylo Ren hesitated and only placed his palms upon the cold walls, breathing hard and blinking fast, almost dazed.

The guard gulped at the patient's sudden pause – the only thing moving from the darkness of the cell was the heaving of his strong, broad back.

Kylo shut his eyes, still feeling a subtle pang at his temples and in the mush of his brain. There was nothing relaxing about his life lived behind bars, he always had to keep watch for shadows and now he also has to ensure that the dark hands of evil, won't reach out to Eve – unless it is his own, of course.

"It's dinner time." The guard forced, eyeing the shine of Kylo's shackles and thanking his Lord that there was another guard to accompany him on his first walk with the demonic patient.

Kylo Ren tried to smile, but his face only twisted in hidden agony at the idea of sitting in that hall with a bunch of looneys, but no Eve to coyly make blush and overthink her own sanity with his profound words.

There is rings of purple and grey beneath his tired eyes and the skin on the sides of his head are burnt to a rough and gut-wrenching red welt in the shape of the handles, in which the wicked priest had forced Eve to place upon him.

He's drained, and even though he had been eating, he was never fully satisfied for he only craved what he couldn't have. Kylo Ren knows that it is bound to be impossible from now on, to be anywhere near Eve – for that sadistic, bastard of a Father, will presumably do everything in his wretched power to ensure that the Sister is nowhere near the patient who had somehow managed to capture her heart.

Though, Kylo would never seem weak – for he was everything, but a victim. He was a ruthless, evil, merciless killer... and he was never going to willingly let either the guards of the halls or the man who owned them, know that they had won and made the infamous Kylo Ren bow down to their demands with sorrowed eyes and a crack in his stone heart.

So, instead of allowing the lump in his throat to choke him, he swallowed it down to the acid of his stomach – he tensed his shoulders and turned ever-so-slowly around, staring down the two guards in his doorway with a threatening glare, only to then smirk and allow them to lead him down to the dining hall.

Eyes are always watching him – whether they be the stern stares of guards and doctors, or the frightened but dazed gapes of the other patients that crossed paths on the way, but always kept their distance.

Kylo bites down on his tongue hard and resists the temptation to punch away the hands of the man who holds the chains of his shackles and leads him as if he was some kind of mutt on a leash. He doesn't want to be here. This place is for lunatics and those who create chaos after being touched by the devil, which Kylo swore he didn't do – he used his power to end those who had been tainted with the devil's touch. He's not crazy, he's just a little dark minded.

Kylo looks down at the wounds across his knuckles which have dried brutally. Okay, he thinks – perhaps, he's also a little psychotic, too.

The dining hall is a place where insanity truely lingers in the white walls of nothing, and echoes in the whispers of hushed conversations kept only between the patients and the invisible demons sitting in front of them. Disappointed when Kylo doesn't find Eve to be standing by the other flock of Sister's who gathered in the corner of the room, his stomach growled but not because it was hungry for food, but rather every single cell in his being was craving the remarkable woman, who seemed to be the very first person, who still didn't particularly understand him – but wanted to.

This damned place will become the death of him, as it will her – how could she have not understood that? He wondered, as he flicked his eyes to the corner table where they always sat and played chess, but a lonesome patient was already taking up the space so he had to sit at a different table far away from the tall, wired windows when the guards let him go and waltzed over to the virginal ladies in the corner.

With emotional and brutal physical abuse, the insults, insinuations, criticism, and accusations slowly eating away at his own numb esteem, Kylo Ren usually wouldn't let anyone bring him down but he seemed to have been pulled by the dainty hand of Eve, and lost in a treacherous abyss when he no longer knew where she was. He hopes that she will come back to him, after she is capable of judging a situation realistically and realises that he indeed, is the best thing for her liberty. He can only guess that right this moment, his little Eve may be hiding in the halls, avoiding him to refrain from believing that there is something wrong with the pair of them or even fear that she too, is losing her mind.

A plate of cold and stale vegetables is set before him, missing the sliver of dry meat that all the other looney's got to eat – for Kylo Ren was not as privileged as all the sedated patients, and wasn't going to be ever trusted with a knife sharp enough to cut through the served lamb.

His right hand curls into a tight fist around his fork as his eyes scan his surrounding and all the monotone, bland faces that litter the space of the dining hall. The record player in the corner stutters, and skips to the next song and plays something familiar – but he cannot quite recall when or where he had heard this song of two cheery voices, from.

Although, it is quick to infuriate him and with the duet of humbling gratitudes in the ballad of hope, Kylo Ren cannot fight the anger which boils like soaring lava through his veins and his vision begins to turn into the lens of a monster or sadistic animal. He leaves his tray untouched, but his sick mind gathers up all his internalised evil and indulges upon the many ways he imagines how he could kill every single one of them.

The old man who was the one from days ago, smashing his fists upon the now completely broken television – he was easy, Kylo would wrap the chain of his shackles around his neck and choke him until his tan, wrinkled face fades and turns purple and blue.

There was a younger man sitting close by Kylo Ren, but he didn't notice for he was too busy looking at his slop of lamb upon his plate and talking to it as if it were still alive – resisting the temptation to laugh, Kylo Ren found twisted pleasure from imagining the way he would stab the shank of bone from the meat upon the patient's tray, right into that crazy glimmer in his bland eyes.

Next, there was a woman who was lingering near the doors, keeping her seductive eye upon a male-nurse who was handing out a tray of vitamins – Kylo Ren would easily bring her to him with a simple motioning of his longer fingers, to which she would most definitely follow as if she was tied to the wave by a string to her core. She was incarcerated by her own husband a few years ago, Eve had told him that she was condemned by the sin of greed and adultery. She was a woman who, just like Kylo, loved sex – but the natural act only became an addiction and it ruled her life and mind in the same way a drug would... Kylo hums below his breath and narrows his eyes upon her knotted, blonde hair – ultimately deciding that he would pull her by it and then stab the four pointed ends of his silver fork, right into her jugular.

And then, moving onto the patient who sat by the window with a checkered board of chess set up in-front of her instead of a plate full of food – Kylo Ren noticed the way her hands trembled as she played the game by herself, moving both the black pieces and white in a way that made it almost ridiculously seem as if no opposing side was winning. Terrible. He thought, can nobody here play chess but him?

His brown eyes raked along her skin, noticing the multitudes of purple blotches running up the length of her bent arms, until the material of her dress, which was the uniform for the women incarcerated in White-Ivy, began to cover what presumably battered upon her shoulders too. But more bruises were to be seen around the expanse of her neck, though her soft hair tried to cover them, and the face that hid behind the curtains.

He considered for a second, maybe he would kill her by picking up the board and striking her across the head with it, then throwing the pieces upon her corpse as if her face was a dart-board and the pawns were pointed ends of his sharp aim... that is, until she moved slightly when she leant across the checkered game and moved a black bishop closer to her own white rook, and Kylo Ren caught a quick glimpse of that exact face.

He's crazy. That's it. He's fucking crazy.

It was as if the devil had suddenly chuckled loud as Kylo's surroundings began to spin and blur, but the patient in the corner sat mobile and completely clear in his magnified vision. The devil was drilling a hole into the side of his head, and twisting his senses and reality. Nothing seemed real in this moment and if it weren't for the splitting and pounding migraine inside of Kylo's skull, he would presume this life to be some kind of horrifying nightmare.

Kylo Ren doesn't get scared, in-fact he doesn't feel anything at all and never has... until this very moment, where he was almost scared shitless. The man hated it, this feeling that was almost so tangible, it was suffocating him and bulldozing the cement of his hard heart, into nothing but dust.

He had never known that fear was painful. Perhaps, his victim's demise was purely from the trepidation his horrific nature brought, instead of his deadly weapons which penetrated their thinly, masked skin? There was a tumbleweed of fire, rolling the distance from his eyes and all the way down to his feet – leaving everything that was once gnawing on the shadows of his soul, nothing but ash.

He was on the brink of consciousness, beginning to see stars too around her as the black vignette started to pull into his peripherals, but his primal and murderous instinct was digging it's own claws into the face of reality and refusing to let go – as did his eyes, which wouldn't even blink.

But soon enough, his eyes were impossibly dry to the point that if he didn't close them, tears may water down the golden-brown and he cannot remember the last time he had cried – probably when he was a baby. So, he forced them shut tightly, the pressure leaving trails of euphoric lights to flicker in the void until he found strength to open them again – hoping that what he was seeing, was just the waking of his insanity instead and that it wasn't real.

_It was real._

Kylo Ren popped a muscle in his jaw from gritting his sharp teeth so violently together and even grinds the tip of his tongue between them, accidentally drawing blood – but he didn't care for that kind of pain.

Before he even realises what is happening next, Kylo's on his sore feet and practically thundering his steps across the room, until a guard calls out for him to slow down – to which he does, for he won't let this moment slip from his grip before it is too late.

White-Ivy was only a playground for the devil. It was a carousel for the servants of evil to ride. Kylo Ren knew of this earlier, but he didn't ever consider that something so cruel such as this, could be punished on the territory of orchestrated repentance and dishonour.

Kylo Ren was God's mistake. He was an anomaly which lingered through the veins of the earth, and plagued everything good in the world until his actions brought and detained him, here. He remembers his many court dates, but especially the last one in which the stern judge had exiled him to a place where a Father with ginger hair would save him from an eternity of torment in the hands of demons, and shelter him with praise and enlightenment for Kylo's brain wasn't wired in all the assumed places.

But he knew they were corded in the way that mortals were supposed to be. He was beyond sane, he was only bestowed with the true glass-eyes of kaleidoscopic revelation, whilst everyone else wore rose-coloured monocles that covered them from the truth and torment which the light burns upon them. Kylo Ren could see the devil and the servants which littered the land of the world, and with his skills and power of mighty cruelness, he will never stop trying to kill off every evil until it is only him left standing – starting with that very Father which had opened his doors to Kylo, when no prison would.

He was God's mistake, but Satan's favourite foe... and the devil had only smiled with victory, when the man crossed the dining hall and stood before the limp and sedated woman, who sat in the corner of the room – playing a losing game of chess against herself. 

He loomed above the hunched form of the patient, and he almost wanted to punch his fists into her back and watch her body shapelessly disintegrate into nothing – for there was still a part of him that couldn't believe that this was happening.

His fingers curl into his palms and his jaw clenched as he tried to find the right words to say as the woman wouldn't even look up to him – too numbly fallen in her own world of white verses black, upon a checkered board of wood. The rage was undeniable and strong within his chest, but something else was swirling around the rubble of his heart and drowning the soot with an unbridled sorrow, in which he had never battled before.

His tongue dried like summer-rain on cement and his throat almost closed. Dark eyes quickly moving to the window behind her wave of hair, he noticed that the sun was begging the moon to rise as it started to fall into the peaks of the forest trees which surrounded the penitentiary, and bringing a faint glow to the crisp white of the trudge of snow beyond the earth.

He only had a sparse amount of time before the guards would lock him back into his cell and separate him from the rest once more. Kylo Ren's eyes went as dry as the crack of blood upon his knuckles, though for the first time since he was a child, he felt the urge to weep... but not before he whispered to the young lady beneath him,

"Eve?"

He heard the small breath she sucked through her soft lips, and watched her visibly tense before dropping the pawn in her hands, down on the board with surprise.

There was something so eerie about the vibe and overall paleness of the dining hall, with its bland walls of white and no grime but the echoes of insanity to grasp onto the melancholia of nothing at all – but the other twisted faces of even worser souls.

Even what little emotion Kylo Ren possessed in his deadly vessel, cried out and searched endlessly for something bright or capturing, to keep its live-wired tendencies and needs held onto something far-more exciting than the even paler tones from outside the frosty windows. And that's exactly when the patient turned and faced him.

She began pulling at her hair a little, and there were salty tears sitting upon the wondrous colour of her eyes, which had never looked so dull in the way it did, right now.

Yes – Kylo Ren has lost his damned mind, but he won't bother searching for it... for he found something much better. And sometimes following one's heart means losing your mind along the way, but he doesn't care – even if she was the one that had practically tightened these shackles around his wrists and attached the live wires to his temples, herself.

Blood lingered in the trappings of her mouth, from biting down on her own cheeks too hard to avoid screaming out as she had done in the trappings of her small cell, for the past couple of days. The metallic tang was foul, but enough to elevate her hunger pains and focus her mind away from the wounds upon her fried temples and the confusing ache in her heart, which she didn't understand where it originated from.

Kylo Ren's vision sunk back from the dark and intense haze that hung over her frame, as if the devil had pulled a cloak and revealed her glory to him once more. But she wasn't the same as he remembered her to be, something was off – and it wasn't just the silver shackles around her wrists, nor the dark blue uniform she now wore, instead of the modest drapes of creed he was used to.

Her eyes were almost dead, lacking the youthful glow of sovereignty that he adored so much, and when she eventually spoke, her moving lips weren't as pink as they were usually blessed to be. Eyebrows furrowing, her words were only the harshest torture in which he could ever endure. And when she whispered them so delicately to him, his strive for the end of all evil only grew in raging power.

"How do you know my name?"

The walls seemed to metaphorically crash down around him and the chains binding his wrists tightened in delight to his defeat.

Remorseless vanquishing ran through him as a soul-consuming shiver. Satan's hands curled around his shoulders and spoke of destruction, and the many ways in which he could help Kylo. But the condemned killer refused to listen to the mutters of vexation in his ears, because all he could think about was horrific doom ahead – and that there were no ways to save either himself, and the woman sitting at the table, from it.

This is what brutal pain truely feels like. Kylo Ren may have lost his mind, but he didn't care so much for he had found his Eve... but sadly and deservingly, she had only lost herself along the way, too.


	22. TWENTY-ONE

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it took so long for an update (if anyone actually cares lol) life's been really rough lately, and i've been struggling to find motivation to write, let alone make a chapter i am actually proud of :')  
> anyway, i am forcing myself to push through this trudge and keep going until i am back in the clear again – also, this was originally a really long chapter but i decided to split it into two, so the next update should be posted tomorrow!
> 
> P.S: let me know any feedback. are people enjoying this/not so much? is there anything i should add?

The world was twisting as if the devil had dipped his arrowed tail into the sky and began stirring his concoction of evil into the good of the rosy hue. Night was falling, and so was Kylo Ren's blood and body heat. Eve sat ever-so-beautifully in the middle of his foggy vision, clear as any angel could be but the distress in her eyes was causing a fatal flaw in his kaleidoscopic, brown eyes. 

The snow still dropped passed the window that she sat in-front of but slower than usual – and as they pelted against the pane, their icy touch was clashing against the heat of the dining hall, causing ivy-like tendrils to run down the mist.He flicked his eyes quickly to the tendrils and then back to her, but the _ivy_ was all he could think about as the sky was no longer the pinkest thing in the world, but it seemed her quivering bottom lip and the whites of her tired eyes were. 

The ferns of greenery seemed to be metaphorically binding his closed fits firmer than any cuff of silver ever could. They must have grown and slithered like little snakes, following Eve from the Garden Of Eden and to this wretched place instead. Her mere gaze is enough to send them his way, wrapping around his stiff legs, up his toned torso, tightening around his neck and choking him until they glide through his agape and stunned mouth, down his throat and onwards to his stone heart – which for the first time ever, _cracked._

Kylo Ren's chest burned, and it wasn't because of the ache in his lungs from refusing to breathe inwards, frightened by the slight chance that all that could escape his mouth is a quivering hum – it was an agonising pain that was like an explosion in his stomach, cement replacing the blood in his veins, sharp claws digging into and hanging on every single bone of his... but he knew the pain was not real. It was something only himself was wielding, therefor he was creating it from something else. 

_Fear._ He want's to spit on the very emotion and kill it more violently than he had ever murdered before. He was fearful, but only because she _didn't_ look fearful. In fact, Eve didn't look anything but confused – dazed perhaps. And that mere factor scared Kylo more than anything, for the state she was in – dressed like an inmate, hunched over a lonely and losing chessboard, life lacking in the dull colours of her skin, should have made her flee into his bound arms to _somehow_ find comfort out of the darkest being in the room.

Maybe, she was beyond scared beneath the fragile, yet unmoving mask she wore right now? Kylo wondered. Perhaps, the torture of her colliding faith and sins, had become too much and she realised that he was the root to all of her ivy-like problems? That had to be it. 

Kylo Ren swallowed roughly and sighed. The sorrow is what must have been left with Eve when she needed something tangible the most, and she finally realised that the terror of his enchanting smile – was only a haunting smirk. And _it was_ at the start, but now... Kylo Ren doesn't even know what has happened to him to be able to tangibly explain, nor understand it, himself. 

Her last words were engraved in the tombstone of his heart, no longer ringing in his ears for at least the pulse of his soaring veins are louder than the shouts of his wicked memory. 

The pink of the sky cascades into a falling of dark blue, and soon enough it will deepen into a shadow of black with nothing but the face of the toe-nail shaped moon, to light up the bland territory they could've escaped – but just like her defence dabbled across the stiffness of her face, Kylo knows that she could have never fled with him if she was battling such conflict. Eve must have properly understood that he was bad for her, and he knew that too. But that didn't mean that he wasn't hurt that in the end, she turned back to the light which summoned what was good for her, leaving him in the melancholia of his own shadows – alone, with none other than the devil on his broad shoulder.

Though, that didn't explain the lack of drapes covering the soft flesh of her arms and knees which poked out from beneath the paper-like dress that all female inmates wore. Whatever that bastard preacher had planned, must have been created for the sickening pleasure of watching the Sister be stripped from all that she knew, thrown with the mingling of the crazy – only to eventually pull her back out in a few minutes, so she can realise how _good_ she really had it. And would she really ever want to risk a life this confining and twisted, just for Kylo Ren? _No. She wouldn't,_ he confirms.

His lips feel as if an anchor of grief was tied by a string to the corners of his once, uprising smirk – pulling it right down as did his stomach drop when he said again, "Eve..."

She was already looking at him, but when he called her name again, Eve's eyes only narrowed and focussed some more. 

The girl could almost feel herself sink into the tedious and dull shades of the dining hall, the colour of her eyes fading as white as the walls which cage her in – for upon one good look at the man, she assumed that she only looked as dreary and uninteresting as all the other inmates which were scattered as messily as their winding thoughts, around the hall. 

Dark, raven hair that softly swayed in long strands which seemed soft to the touch around his attractive face of sharp cheekbones,soft lips, a strongly prominent nose, and eyes which perfectly sat beneath the bush of defined brows – the man was also tall and broad, and even beneath the white singlet which he wore beneath his jumpsuit, which was tied around his waist, left little for her mad mind to imagine.

His eyes locked directly with her own and sent her surroundings spiralling as all was forgotten – all _but_ the golden shimmer in the dark shade of his alluring gaze, which was almost blinding her with a magnifying awe, as his features draw tendrils of inkling reverence in the capturing of her heart's devoted chamber.

The young girl looked up at him and she felt her breath catch in her chest, but it was painfully forced as if she had been choking on something, only for someone to punch it brutally from her lungs. Mouth going just a bit dry, she swallowed numerous times, but nothing could replace the sandpaper feeling upon her tongue. The chessboard game in which she was once engrossed in, was now left lonely as her hands intertwined nervously between her exposed, bruised knees. 

She bites down on her tongue and utters a bland reply, much to Kylo Ren's oncoming demise, "What do you want?"

He was a strange sight, for a stranger. 

Whoever _he_ was, to Eve he was a contrast to the bleak nature of this boring, dull and soul-consuming place. The man above her visibly tensed, his face contorting into one of confusion as his eyebrows furrow and he takes a slightly stunned, step back. The sky rumbled low, seemingly moving to his will as if the man had the power to bring what little of light was still lurking outside, in with him as if all warmth gravitated to the coolness of his pale and scarred skin. 

The flickering, murky lightbulbs in the ceiling of the dining hall still manage to hit his prominent and sharp features perfectly, as if the glow was only magnifying from his body and beaconing or proving to all around him that he was quite possibly, the most exhilarating man to walk the dust of this penitentiary. 

As Kylo Ren utters a brittle, "W-What?" Eve wonders how she had _never_ noticed him here before.

 _If only she remembered._ For Kylo Ren already knew that she was a remarkable woman, though mysterious as he is too. 

She brushes him off, rolling her eyes and sighing, "Whatever. Do you mind giving me some space?" She asks blankly, pausing to flick her _familiar_ eyes to the ticking clock perched on the bleak wall above all the indents and nail scratches, "There's only..."

Kylo's chest is pounding and every fibre of his being is trying to cling onto reality and understand what _the hell_ is going on right now. Eve was acting distant, which must be her way of proving to the Father of the manor that she is _choosing_ to forget about him, avoid him and prove her loyalty to her Lord. 

Kylo Ren had never felt so betrayed, so lost. 

How could she be so willing to refuse him, after all they had been through... even if he was the one that grasped onto her unwilling hand and dragged her through every treachery. Eve was his, she said it herself. Patient 727 rakes his dark eyes upon her, refusing to blink away the glass of jeopardy. 

She was still as beautiful as ever, even if she wasn't wearing particularly fitting clothes. Her name which only he had given to her, was an epiphany of summer breezes and petalled kisses of rose, while her face was capturing yet without a hallucinative trance. Finding her all kitted up in drapes of holy, in a dull place such as White-Ivy, brought Kylo confusion which her lack of enlightenment could not cure – but seeing her in the uniform of an inmate, was the craziest thing he had ever witnessed.

That's it, he truely must be crazy. What if everything he had always known, was something that he had conjured up from the dark trenches that were dug up in the roots of his wild and insane imagination? That's an unnerving idea, though it doesn't surprise, nor frighten him. Perhaps, even Eve herself isn't real either, for this sight of her usual beauty, but mixed with the coldness of her stare, cannot be explained. 

It didn't help that the music playing on the record player kept skipping and reversing, sounding as twisted as the incoherent mumbling coming from the woman in the furthest corner of the room, who scrapes her nails down the whites of the walls. He watches the way Eve's eyes snap over to her, and he wonders if she's doing the same thing in which he had, the first day he arrived to White-Ivy – looked around at all the lost faces, and refused to believe that she too, is missing a puzzle-piece of her brain. 

But she wasn't. Even Kylo Ren knew this. His Eve was completely sane, though he'd fight that he was wired more correctly. She didn't belong here, just as he didn't... that's why he tried to take her away when they had the chance to. Even if this is just some sick form of punishment, and Eve will soon be summoned back to her real dormitory after dinner to put back on her drapes of worship, Kylo Ren still knew that she had to leave before this damned place _makes_ her crazy.

She moves her eyes back upon him – but they look different, he suddenly realises. They look like the ghost of what they once were. His guts twist, and so does his fingers into the palms of his hands. 

Eve continues, ignoring the whites of his knuckles, and motioning back to the chessboard, "– Eight more minutes before dinner's over, and I'd really like to get back to my game."

The walls are crashing in on him, and so does the heavens it seems – for he can even hear the snickers of the angels as they laugh at his ultimate defeat. The night has now become a void for his curse of devotion to flee into the murk, to try and find the real spirited Eve in which is no longer intertwined around the bones of the girl before him. 

Moon perched high and the sun forbidden from the black canvass above, the night is brooding and draining all life and colour from the land, and even Kylo notices that the minor glimmer in her eyes, no longer bubbles the hue of her eyes like the surface of a glass of champagne. 

She's tired. _He_ can see it. _She_ can most definitely feel it – the torture became too much. Though, maybe it _wasn't_ her choice to pull so defiantly away from his shadowed _love._

Shaking his head at his own thoughts which are already bleeding into the overreacting themes of nightmares, Kylo Ren tenses his jaw and tries to refocus, but all he seems to be sensing is the crank in his adrenaline, the stiffness in his tight muscles and the need to punch away all these tantalising feelings in him. 

He glances at the hopeless game, and then to the hopeless player, "You're versing only yourself, Eve."

When he says her name again, with his voice of unfamiliar velvet, the tone seems to smack some colour back upon her chilled cheeks, waking her slightly up. 

Eve peers up at the dark man, his face now sculptured by the lights above their heads, like a halo of only melancholy. She somehow presumed that they were two strangers, but it seemed in this very moment, she realised that he was contempt with being so close to one another, as he didn't even realise that he had taken an inch of a step inwards. 

She couldn't seem to understand how he knew her name. He couldn't understand why she seemed to have forgotten that he was the one who gave her it.

The young girl was lost with just his flicker of a gaze which had the power of slowing time into a stretched out continuum that even made the blood in her veins pause until her heart began to beat thunderously once more, bringing her back to life before his soulful browns. He _seemed_ familiar – but there wasn't enough evidence for her to allow her heart to start beating fast. 

She snapped her face away and glared at the checkered board, her bravery lost in the translation as a tension filled the cold air and began to smother her airways. "I'm trying to learn," Eve muttered, attempting to ignore the way her stomach erupted into butterflies when he ran his tongue along his bottom lip and she could see the scarlet littering the tastebuds of his tongue. 

He tasted the sweet metallic as she turned away. _Was he biting his inner cheek that hard?_

Kylo's eyes carry her into his glory again, although he too was looking back at his Eve with enchantment. He shook his head once more and glanced over to the guards in the corner, who paid little attention, before curling across the end of the small table and sitting on the other side of the chessboard.

Suddenly, he cannot even recall how much time it had been since he last saw Eve – sobbing and hesitantly holding onto the lever that sent voltage coursing through his temples and body. But something must have happened to change her so drastically, from the moment his heavy eyes closed and to this very moment today. 

He whispered, hunched over with his left hand holding a black pawn loosely to make their situation seem light, despite the fact that his eyes had turned as black as his soul now shrivelled up and became, "Why are you dressed like a fucking patient? Did Hux force you to do this as punishment?"

Eve's didn't speak, but she tried to think about what his peculiar question could mean. The silence returned like the tension in a situation as all eyes watch a ceramic plate fall from the china cabinet and await for the next clashing and loud sound to come. She winces beneath his heavy stare, and can tell that he finds a slight pleasure in feeding off her uncomfort like the most gluttonous leech, who is always craving for the blood which rises to the apple's of her cheeks.

"You're not supposed to tell other inmates what caused you to be locked up," She says low, turning her face to the window and muttering her next words, "Especially if they're the type that is still chained during dinner."

The ivy strangles him some more, and tightens around the rock of his erratic heartbeat. His fear is scattering to the magnetic pull of his ultimate confusion, promoting the chance of a subconscious solution finding its way through – but he cannot find a reasoning for her change of heart, and seemingly, her mind too. 

Right now, Kylo Ren feels like his brain is mush – or as if the slight dust sitting upon the surface of the window ledge, had been blown into his body, fogging up his senses and hiding away his ability to understand why Eve was acting so... _strange._ He had seen the fear in her eyes, all those days ago in the operating theatre as she was forced to watch him be tortured – but now there's nothing upon her face but utter dismissal. 

Confusion was simply anxiety in a different cloak. It's the shadow of the hooded-veil of death, who's greatest weapon is knocking Kylo Ren off his pedestal and enjoying the way the venomous mortal plummets a great fall, all because of some weak girl who has lost her damned mind – _but how?_

Is this part of her punishment, to have to pretend as if she hadn't given her bloody and beating heart over to a man who owned the most violent hands? Kylo Ren can only assume so, despite the fact that deep down he knows that this is just another punishment for him also. 

Kylo's tries to regain his poise, deadly calm, straighten his shoulders and allow his threatening tranquility to rest back upon the thick surface of his still face, but his harsh and dark eyes are a traitor with the truth shining in the narrow as he tries to inspect her. 

"What the _fuck_ are you talking about, Eve?" He snaps, when he cannot find the answers looming around her, for she gave him nothing by neither her words or stiff body language. 

Still holding her wide gaze upon him, Kylo Ren notices the way she flinches at his tone and crude word. 

"Please, leave me alone, or else I will call for the guards," She whispers beneath her cracking breath, before flicking her wide eyes over to the guards in the corner, who are all too busy talking and sucking on the ends of their long, white tobacco sticks.

Kylo flinches too. 

What's gotten into her? 

What's gotten into _him?_

"Eve," He croaks, surprised by the sound of his own tone as he reaches his large hand through the chessboard, knocking over multiple pieces just to grasp onto her dainty, _cold_ hand. A lump rises in his throat at the feeling of holding her smaller hand with the large expanse of his long fingers and wide palm. He can feel her tremble, sending vibrations through his defensive skin and almost boxing the steady, yet mortified beat of his stone heart. But before a second has even ticked upon the clock on the wall, Eve has gasped and torn her icy touch away from him.

She holds her hands to her chest, her hair swaying slightly away from her face as she pushes her seat further away from the table and looks at him weirdly. 

He shakes his head, furrowing his brows tighter than he ever has before.

"What happened to y–" He began, until his eyes caught the sight of burnt flesh marking both sides of her temples. 

His body ran colder than ever before, but suddenly his vision turned as red as the roaring flames which erupted and exploded in the acid of his churning stomach. 

As if it was attached to a sting, his hand flung back to his own chest, sending all the other pawns crashing loudly to the floor.

His surroundings were twisting like the lens of a kaleidoscope and the dotted, arched and diamond shapes around Eve, was only the silhouettes of the cynical debris of his now shattered, demolished and violated, pathetic stone heart. The rubble is brushed beneath his feet, sweeping him off his common course and totally leaving him drowning beneath his own uncertainty. 

Kylo Ren had never been this shocked before, but the burns on her temples matched his perfectly and he knew that only a certain type of _shock_ could give one those wounds.

Heart beating fast, all he could hear was his pulse ringing and pounding like a terrible orchestra, but he could still see her pale and dehydrated lips moving, possibly telling him to leave her alone again – and only now, did he realise why.

She couldn't remember who he was. Frankly, Eve didn't even know who _she_ was. 

Kylo Ren could picture it all unfolding perfectly, for he had been in the same situation only seconds before she must have endured the same torture. He loathed himself internally that he had ever allowed his reality to fade behind the void brought by heavy eyelids, for he didn't realise that Eve truely was in as much danger... if not more. 

He had the strength and wit to push through the pain of fiery volts, violating ever fibre in his body as it swam through his veins and electrified his brain. When he was strapped to the hospital bed, he always focussed – not on the agony, not on his surroundings. But on his damn head. He held on, he bit through the leather strap shoved between his teeth and made sure that the only indents were the memories in which he desperately hung onto. 

_But his little, innocent and beautiful Eve?_ Well, Kylo Ren just knows that she would have been too terrified to even dread what those snapping shards of electricity could do to her mind – for the man who was the one pulling the lever, is whom she feared the most.

She was no longer the Eve in which he knew. The young girl in his sights was a blank slate, ready for him to inflict more scars of treacheries upon her, for no longer did Father Hux care for her like he would with all of the Lord's children, simply because now she was a servant of Satan. 

Eve was already metaphorically bleeding through the grey look in her eyes, as the devil's touch has finally scrambled her mind like the rest of the patients in White-Ivy Penitentiary _– the only home where insanity is 'welcomed.'_

Kylo Ren tastes blood, but it isn't his own. It is merely his tastebuds awakening as the darkness within his growling, craving soul, awaits to sink its teeth into the very man in which Kylo _will_ ensure to brutally kill, for what he had done to what was his. 

The shadows of evil are feeding off his hurt and gaining power from motives, only to plead for more – begging his deranged soul to do what he did best, and cause pain... _not fucking feel it!_

The metaphorical ivy which were slithering around every limb and pinching every organ in his body with the strokes of thorns like barbed-wire, _snapped._

And so did he. 

He abruptly stands from his place at the table, not giving Eve even a second glance before he is stomping across the room in large, quick steps. Kylo had never moved in this way before, usually he was agile, stalking and used his time wisely before striking. He moved how a lion would stalk its prey, _but now,_ he trudged in the way a bulldozer would smash through a wall – destructive and without logic. 

The inmates surrounding him are lost in their own worlds, just as he is too. They tremble, mumble, rock and shake. He scowls his dark eyes around the room, spit almost dripping to the ground in the way a hound would drool before devouring a bloody, gory meal. 

He wants everyone dead. Kylo Ren wants blood to spill and to paint every inch of this white, melancholy room... red. He's lost all track of time, but he's locked away in the dimension that he always waltzed into as he followed only the figures of his next victims. 

Kylo Ren was a condemned killer. He was the greatest opponent to Satan, himself – for the wicked, scarlet-horned immortal had never watched someone as internally deranged, yet so cunning and clever, as Kylo Ren. He was an anomaly in the mortal word, both a moral and biological abomination. His violent nature was nothing but a weapon, mechanised from the dangerous world he lived in and used with the intentions of being the only evil left within it.

A young woman who he had known to not speak any English, moved her blank stare from her knife and fork, and made the undoubtable mistake of lifting her head and turning it to Patient 727 – and that was all it took before he practically pounced onto her. 

She tried to scream as his hands wrapped around her neck – his chains coldly smacking against her chest too. He could feel her slowing pulse in his forceful fingertips. Her pupils dilated and as the commotion began to crazily erupt around the pair, the woman didn't even need to speak a word of English for anyone to know that she was terrified... and dying.

But as her face crumpled from the severe pain and the hot tears sprung to her brown eyes, Kylo Ren let her go – for his perhiperal's caught sight of two guards cornering him in with their batons raised high above their heads. And he also allowed her to drop to the floor and heave a huge breath inwards, for he didn't particularly need her dead. He just wanted her to be.

There was only one person who Kylo Ren _needed_ dead. And it seemed that the other two guards had fled the dining hall to go retrieve him and other defences, right this second.

Kylo Ren let out a low and sadistic laugh, and it seemed as if even the lights of the room flickered at the sound which reminded all the patients of thunder. 

Hands clapped over ears, and screams and cries erupted as a third guard forced all patients to form a line on the other-side of the hall – Eve included, who watched Kylo Ren with a petrified expression. 

But Kylo's not even looking at her anymore, he's too busy staring down the two guards and their black batons. He grabs a sharp knife off the previous woman's plate, making the silver and ceramic clash and scrape, before he brings it to his side and twists it in his grip as if it was his favourite toy.

_And it was._

His usually pale features went shockingly white. The two guards both swallowed at the predator and his dark, yet somehow glowing, merciless eyes. 

Kylo's chains created a slight difficulty in properly holding the knife threateningly by his side, pointed in the direction of his opponents – but he still had the upper hand. He was larger, taller and stronger. But he had the best advantage of them all... _experience._

He made a deadly, unnerving sound from the bottom of his throat and the build up of internalised evil, mixed with the violation of vexation and anger – shot adrenaline into his veins. 

Kylo Ren took the first step, and before the two guards could even meet him halfway with a strike of their blunt batons, Kylo was already screaming like a madman and swiping his knife through the cold air, as he was the one who now cornered them in.

The pudgy guard at the back of the room sucked a frightened breath into his lungs and quickly began ushering all the patients into the hallway. 

It all happens so quickly. Kylo ducks just in time, his hair messily covering his eyes but he didn't need them for he could perfectly hear the baton swoosh through the air above his face, just missing the tip of his prominent nose. He smirks.

When the first guard riles back his baton for another shot, Kylo takes the opportunity to also lurch his knife back – now holding onto it with two hands because his chains had twisted slightly in the midst of the commotion. He quickly swipes it across the man's thigh, but before he can even lodge the blade into the man's chest, the baton meets it halfway and sends it flying out of Kylo's hands and across the hall. 

There's a sharp and brittle second where neither of the men move, both watching the way the knife scrapes across the floor – he's now unarmed, but it had been said before, that Kylo Ren himself, was the weapon. 

With one brutal and powerful kick, the guard who had first tried to hit Kylo, has now dropped to his knees with a groan and his baton clinks on the floor. And though, Kylo Ren really wanted to dig his thumbs into the blue's of his wide eyes, the other guard was now already taking his shot as if Kylo's face was a softball on a tee, and his black, sturdy pole was a baseball bat.

Kylo tries to move out of the way, but isn't quick enough and lands a rough blow upon his shoulder, almost shattering his collarbone to pieces but Kylo Ren couldn't even feel anything at the moment, for he was too busy now laying his punches into the guard's face. 

He practically mounts the man when he too, drops to the floor.

"Pathetic," Kylo spits, as his hands now curl around his throat and tighten right above the collar of his beige uniform. 

The man from earlier whimpered fearfully on the floor behind Kylo's bent and heaving back, as he watched his bloodied and bruised colleague, be beaten purple by the inmate in which they had all been warned about. 

Kylo Ren only continued, licking and biting his lips as the man's blood was spat out from his crying mouth and onto the white of the patient's twisted face. He adored the pleads, they were the greatest song to his ears and a marvellous tune compared to what still played from the spinning disc in the corner of the room, with a tantalising hopeful tune.

Kylo's vibrant brown eyes were almost unnatural. Still slightly hidden by the locks of his damp, raven hair, not even the wretched scar that was indented across his face, was able to cover the true face of evil which was now showcased on Patient 727. 

The man in his brutal hands turned blue and his outstretched fingers were weak and empty but they still reached out towards the other guard from before – who looked like nothing but a little boy playing dress up, as he sobbed and tried to cower behind a metal chair as he clung onto the spurting, vulgar wound in his thigh.

Kylo Ren smiled to himself, his teeth bared sharp like those of a monster.

It was almost too easy, he thought _– too soon._

All at once, a dozen guards all filed into the room, reminding Kylo Ren of the little, green army-men toys in which he had when he was a boy. He laughed and slammed the back of the guard's head into the ground, before standing back to his feet. 

He allowed them to get close – but not close enough. The men in beige all had their cans of pepper-spray ready and their batons, but they trembled in their grips. It was only until Kylo Ren heard the familiar sound of a gun's barrel clicking and the adjustment of a finger over a trigger, Kylo Ren looked up from the man at his feet – and to the pistol in Guard Roberts' hand. 

They formed in a circle all around him, but there was still a fairly large distance between them all. The pepper-spray would barely miss the violent patient's eyes, but there was no denying that the bullet would definitely pierce through the flesh and bone which sat between the cruel and deadly orbs of brown. 

Blood tapped from his knuckles and onto the floor in which caved in beneath his feet, but nothing could compare to the scarlet vice coming from the familiar voice which finally spoke out from behind him. Kylo Ren snarled at the sound and turned to face the person who owned that daunting tone. 

"I see you've met White-Ivy's newest patient, Mr. Ren," Father Hux said with a charming smirk to match his victory.

And there he is. _The man in which Kylo Ren needed to kill._


	23. TWENTY-TWO

Their equally as cruel eyes locked, neither of the two men refusing to blink as the metaphorical ivy returned and began to coil around Kylo's clenched fists – their thorns pointed and sharp around his white knuckles, as if they were as willing to punch through that damned smirk upon Hux's face, as Kylo Ren was ready to throw the first blow. 

But he didn't move. He stood tall and dangerous, the guards all surrounding the violent animal who had easily taken down two of their peers – even though he was shackled and bound by silver cuffs and chains.

Kylo Ren is seething through his nostrils and letting those ragged breaths out through the clench of his teeth. The vexation and rage is strong in his soul. What was once only a flat land filled with landmines and traps upon his battle-ground of revenge, grew like a soaring mountain filled with hot, provoked lava – with just one look upon the Father of the manor, who had done vicious things. 

The churning in his stomach gnarled even more violently as he narrowed his eyes. All Kylo Ren wanted to do was sprint through the gap left between them, and pierce his fingers right into the chest where a cross sits above the beating, cruel heart in which the inmate would tear right from the cage around it, and then stomp it to dust on the ground. 

Emotionally, Kylo was bruised and windless – but physically? He was ready to murder everyone who has even spared a single, meaningless glance upon his Eve. Kylo Ren had always known that the Father of White-Ivy was merciless and possibly the biggest contender and rival for his cozy little spot which is currently being saved for him downstairs in hell, but after figuring out what he had done to Eve – scrambled her mind, tore Kylo right from her heart and memory and then thrown her right into the place where nothing but insanity can linger through the bars caging them in... is beyond what Kylo Ren could have even imagined, nor comprehended. 

Guard Roberts moved in on Patient 727 when he turned his back to him – though, none of the other security guards even moved from their places. They were seemingly frozen still to the ground as they watched the icy tension allude from the stare off held between Father Hux and Kylo Ren.

Kylo's body stiffened as he had turned almost motionlessly. His collarbone was aching, every pulse banging against the bruise from when the previous guard _– who now lies limp upon the floor –_ had struck him with the baton that rolls by Kylo's feet. Thick ruby blood was splattered all around him, painting his hands, face and even the silky strands of his hair. The ginger bastard was standing ever so calmly a few feet away, dressed in all black but the white collar wrapped around the pale flesh of his neck. The Father's thin lips were perched into a taunting smirk, his blue eyes glistening with mischief.

Kylo Ren breathed in and out harshly through his flared nostrils, his dark and murderous eyes skipping from the smirk and back to those eyes as if he couldn't tell which one of them was mocking him more.

Father Hux took a step forward, glancing to the two guards cowering on the floor – beaten almost too quickly. He rolls his eyes and then wrapped his hands behind his back. He stood tall and with such grace, power and confidence... looming a sense that nothing could ever bother him, nor sweep him off his pointed feet.

Kylo Ren swiped his tongue over his teeth, the twisted anger in his stomach demanding that Kylo take his chances and kill the man now. His heart is convulsing, though with the fire building in his chest and stomach, it gradually subsided with the crave for vengeance becoming his only priority. 

But Kylo Ren wasn't a bulldozer who acted from his instincts and emotions, he was a man who planned and ensured that every little detail of his treacheries and vulgarities were perfect and to be exquisitely executed. He may have slipped up when he choked that previous woman to the ground and then brutally beaten up the two guards, but even then... he had a motive. And that motive was to get this man, right in front of him.

Kylo Ren surveyed the room and then scoffed to the Priest, "You'll never be able to take her away from me," He growled.

Father Hux chuckles and shakes his head, obviously expecting the deranged patient to say something along those lines.

Kylo Ren curled his fingers into his palms, and Hux paused his laughter, letting the tension mount like the tips of the forest trees surrounding the manor. His solemn gaze only meeting his again when his smirk fell too.

"You don't think that I already know that?" He snapped, "You're an absolute fool to assume that you could ever be one step ahead of me. From the moment you laid your wicked eyes upon that girl, you sucked all the good right out of her innocent and childlike soul. I knew that there was no possible way you'd ever not have your sadistic and vile way with her, just as I hated to admit that she wouldn't resist either."

Multiple guards all gave weary and confused glances to each-other, but neither of the men refused to look away from one another – even though, Kylo felt the press of Guard Roberts gun coldly align to the back of his head.

He smirked and cocked a brow – the gun following his every movement but he hardly paid any attention to it, "Are you jealous, preacher man?" He taunts.

There was silence in the room as everyone who had been watching Kylo collectively let their gaze swivel towards the Father, awaiting his verdict, all except Guard Roberts who was only focussed on not pulling the trigger _too_ soon.

Father Hux bites his tongue, "Of you and your one-way ticket to hell?" He sneers across the room, "No, I am most certainly not."

Kylo's mouth twisted and the muscle beneath his right eye twitched as the Father only continued, taking another step closer.

Even if there wasn't a gun currently pointed against his skull, Kylo Ren still wouldn't take a step back to create further distance. He refused to allow the ginger-haired man feel superior, even though he was _currently_ winning the war in which they both started, and will fight in until either one of them is dead. And Kylo Ren also refuses to be the man buried six-feet under, instead he will be the man to spit on Hux's holy grave.

"– You two are twin flames, but only lit by the end of the devil's cigar." Hux jabbed, tilting his head to the side and giving the patient a horrific glare of loathing, "You're both scarred, burnt and just disgusting disgraces of all things good in this world, and although you had always been all those things... it was _you_ who made her that way. Yes, I'll never be able to take her away from your murderous hands – that, I realised."

"But, there was one thing I _could_ take," Father Hux raised a brow and took another step closer, not even threatened by the way the inmate now towered over him, "Do you know what that could be, 727?"

Kylo's stomach dropped, but the heat thrashing inside never dwelled. His insides were in a chaos. A mess. The panic was twisting his innards like a knife had been plunged into his toned torso and twisted, over and over, to then be ripped out of the wound it had caused, only to collide again with another area of flesh it hadn't met before.

Kylo Ren makes an animalistic noise.

"Take a guess," The preacher cooed.

Kylo Ren knew what he wanted to hear – the truth. His bones were almost rattling in his body as his muscles went tight and lightly vibrated with the nerve to strike and pounce. Blood continued to drip from the cuts he had caused in his own knuckles by punching them on the sharp cheeks of the guards, though he only moved his eyes away from Hux and stared sightlessly at the messy chessboard far over his shoulder, by the distant window. 

His tone was cold – and almost as dead as the look in Eve's eyes as she couldn't remember who Kylo was. "Her mind," He finally said.

"Ah, yes!" The ginger man cheered, looking up at the roof and then back to Kylo, his words and cheers, taunting him with a sarcastic praise, "Her mind. The one thing that makes her, who she is."

Kylo Ren's jaw clenches. _He knew it._

"You're fucking insane," He snarled.

_Oh, the irony..._

Hux rolls his eyes, "Oh, please, give it a rest. I do not even remotely, listen to the titles given by a man in shackles and prison gear."

As some of the nameless guards chuckle and chortle, the Father only gives a sly smile and then twists on his heel to wander over to the small table in which Kylo and Eve previously sat at. His long, white fingers wobble a few of the pawns back into place, before moving his blue eyes out the window, staring sightlessly into the void of nightfall.

 _He's never leaving this place._ Kylo Ren's never going to get out and neither is poor Eve.

"Get fucked," Kylo spat, to which Hux laughed at and walked a little closer back to him – though his smirk dropped when Kylo only continued to chime, "Is that why you're so pent up and cruel? Huh, need a good _fuck_ to let out your steam? If that's the case, I'm sure that the woman with the high sex-drive and addiction for little dicks could give you a go."

The look upon Hux's face was priceless. Ivory skin almost turning as red as his fiery hair – the preacher felt a lump rise to his throat and a forbidden churn in his stomach. He knew that he'd have to pray for forgiveness tonight, for when Kylo Ren uttered something so vulgar about the woman who had been sentenced for her addiction, he couldn't help but imagine her in such a way... though her face had been replaced with the angelic reverence of the Sister who know wears the same uniform as the one of the inmate whose legs were always willingly open.

He shakes his head, trying to rid the image from his mind. Kylo Ren can see the uncomfortable twist in his expression and this time, he chuckles and only adds more to the Priest's mortification.

"Her, _or_ Mr. Roberts over here with his blowjob lips," He knocks his head back a little, chin to the roof and scalp scraping against the tip of the pistole pointed against it.

Roberts' says something vulgar beneath his breath and his finger tightens a little more around the trigger. A certain guard surrounding the three, tried to stifle his laughter. Father Hux snapped his head to the sound and seethed, before speaking directly back to the inmate. 

"Quiet. I must admit, that little hole in the fence was a nice surprise, Ren... but did you really ever think that you could escape?" He sneered, storming closer and ignoring the previous taunts that left him breathless and scarlet. 

Kylo Ren glared daggers at the man's long ivory finger, which was pointed Kylo's way, but Hux kept distance between the two. Kylo smirked. _Good,_ he thought. _That means that the preacher still somewhat feels cautious around him. As he should._

The music still sang, and the clock's hands still turned. The two sounds were driving him off the brink of his own insanity, but it was the preacher who is about to push him off the cliff of despair. 

_Tick, tick, tick._ The clock perched on the white wall is only counting down the seconds of Kylo Ren's inner explosive. His veins are the red wires and the scars of his past are the blue, together they coil their way to the pit of his morality, and there – the true evil of his soul is delicately compacted into dynamite, just awaiting for Kylo Ren's instincts to fire over and light the tendrils to his true wrath. 

His rage is burning, and even he knows that he is slowly letting go of his resistance the more Father Hux speaks and taunts him. He's ready to explode, he's ready to detonate and cause havoc, even if his anger-fuelled outburst is not struck and flamed at the right time. 

Kylo's eyes quickly search around the room as the gun is still held to his head. Guards surrounding, two still on the ground, his knife useless across the floor, a baton by his feet and chains around his wrists.

His destructive fight could only do more damage to him, than he could give to Hux – for there were more men ready to take him down before he is even able to grab the knife on the other side of the room and recklessly throw it into Hux's direction. 

He feels almost weak, as weak and frail as Eve had looked hunched over that chessboard. His heart aches at the mere thought of her, the woman who no longer even presumably thinks about him. Hurt briefly crossed his face, but he soon covered it back with his mask of impassiveness. Kylo Ren may look as if he was made of marble, but he can feel his stone cracking and breaking – and can't seem to understand how Eve had ever become to mean more to him than a seductive toy, but he does know perfectly that he cannot allow Hux to even think that he could cross the devil's playground and tear his toy from his hands and give her back ruined and damaged, without paying for his actions. 

Kylo Ren closed his eyes as the clock ticked again. He tried to swallow down the burn, dwindle the fire and hide away his explosives – prepare them for _another_ time. 

But then, Hux spoke again as he tilted his head to the side, cocking a ginger brow, "– I'll have you know that here at White-Ivy – here, in _my_ house... I kill both demons and the rodents who litter the yards and hallways. Once in my home, no rat, nor mouse ever leaves... unless they are either thrown into a nice, cozy, little cage – or killed by the smash of my boot or my multitudes of rat-traps instead."

_Tick._

Kylo Ren's fury _halfway_ detonated, more violently than ever before but it wasn't to the full extent as what was _really_ hiding still in his chest. Hux's sick and twisted threat was all it took for Kylo Ren to forget about all the things in which could fight against and detain the true rage of his wrath, _for he fucking_ _exploded._

In one quick move, he leant and ducked out from beneath the barrel of the gun. Grabbing the baton by his feet before anyone even registered what was happening. He twisted the stick in his palm and then swung, a mighty swing that caught Guard Roberts... _off guard._

His strike was so powerful that it even took Kylo off balance, as the tip of the baton collided with the side of Roberts' cheek, crushing the bones of his skull beneath the metal force. Barely missing his eye, the older guard groaned out and cussed, quickly shaking his calloused hand to his face and applying pressure to the skin which immediately began to pulse and swell.

The gun drops to the floor. Father Hux sucked a sharp breath of surprise into his lungs and took a leap back – all eyes watched the pistol fall mid air in almost slow motion, hoping that it wouldn't fire upon impact and shoot an unlucky member as if it was a game of spin the bottle, clashed with Russian roulette.

Although, when no bullet left the chamber – they all breathed a sigh of relief collectively, somehow missing the messy fight going on in the centre during the meantime, until Kylo Ren yelled a roar and pulled the baton away and behind his shoulder-blades, ready to hit Guard Roberts again.

Thunderous pulses of pure agony suddenly shot through Kylo's shoulder, reminding him once again of the brutal bruise which splotches like black ink upon the porcelain skin adjoining his shoulder and collarbone. But he didn't have enough seconds to muffle his pained sounds, for Guard Roberts was already trying to get to his knees to reach for the gun in which he had dropped, and the dozen of his men were already inching in closer – ready to spray the cans of pepper upon the pair, or aim their own blunt sticks upon Kylo's back. 

His face drops to the floor, eyes immediately moving to the silver pistol in which Guard Roberts' hand is already reaching for – his breath ragged and rasping, as the pain in his face is granting the entrance of little, white stars to litter his vision. 

In a flash, Kylo Ren growls low and swipes the pistol into his right hand before Roberts' fingertips could even meet the cold metal. 

Sounds of feet jumping back, manly shouts to take cover, racing heartbeats and fright shrieking in the cold air – ring in Father Hux's ears, as even he too, takes quick steps back and holds his hands up defensively, closing his eyes and awaiting the shot to blow and the bullet to soar right into his heart. 

But again, no shot was fired. Hesitantly, Hux peaked open one eye and then the other. 

Dark brown eyes stared right through Father Hux, filled with pain, rage and torment. Kylo's chest was shuddering with each breath as though an anchor was resting above his ribcage and creating a great deal of effort needed to draw air into his lungs. His body was quaking with anger, as though another wave of electric current was coursing through his veins and giving him that golden glow he had in his eyes right now, which swirled the internal vexation around the murk of his soul like high voltage. 

Astonishment was clear upon the Father's face. He widened his eyes and tried to fight the smile which rose upon his face, as he delicately placed a foot closer, no longer fearful for his own life – for the gun in which Kylo Ren held, was only pointed to his own head. 

Kylo Ren exhaled once, swallowing a lump down his throat. He had no chance at fighting all the guards at once and even if he killed one of them, he's certain that soon enough the rest would ensure him a violent, deserving death shortly after. 

He was a man of strategy and always planned his next ten steps before taking the first. Though, even he must admit that he doesn't quite know where he is going after this. 

Strange things tend to happen in White-Ivy, but this had to be the oddest sight Hux has ever seen. This really couldn't be happening. _But it was._

"Make your choice, Ren." Hux demanded, "Pull the trigger if that is what you wish."

A smile pulled at Kylo's lips. They stretched slow, almost tight and cracking the pale and dry skin. The trigger rests beneath his long finger, and the muzzle of the gun is held against his head. 

"How sincere of you," He spat. 

He toyed with the idea of shooting himself before Hux could even answer, but the face of Eve is currently haunting the murky and misty maze in which lives in his brain. She couldn't remember who he even was, therefor she wouldn't wonder where he went, nor care if she found out about his unprecedented death. But there was something in him that couldn't bare the mere possibly that she would be left upon this cruel world, without him to protect her.

He kept that evil grin upon his face as his consciousness was battling his instincts and emotions simultaneously. Kylo Ren's breathing paused, and he considered for a moment what the Father in front of him would do to _his_ Eve, without him to take most of the wrath and punishments. 

He could stay. He could try and make her remember who he was, after-all she seemed to remember, or believe that her name was truely Eve... when in reality it was Kylo who gave her that title. 

That factor should bring hope, but he's never been the man to hope. Only a man who believed in reality and the harmful nature of it.

The tension in the air was suffocating. Thickening and thickening with every passing second as Hux awaited the pull of the trigger.

"Patient 727, you either live the rest of your days with compliance beneath the rat-trap you have placed yourself in, or you wiggle and writhe until the silver trap kills you," He said, raking his harsh and horrific eyes from the gun and back to the wicked smirk upon Kylo's scarred, ivory face. 

"– So, what's it going to be?" He remarked, "Live here, or die by the _cowards_ way?"

Kylo Ren had been sentenced by a judge, to spend the rest of his days in White-Ivy. Therefor, he was practically brought here to die. Now that the hole in the fence is no longer a possible chance of escape, Kylo Ren knows that he will never get a single odd like that again. He's stuck here. Kylo will die here one way or another, but as the time allows Hux's words to sink into his wrangled brain, Kylo understands that he doesn't wish to rot in White-Ivy until the hooded figure of death finally takes his hand and brings him to an even crueler place. 

His grip tightens around the gun, digging a little deeper into his burn.

The clock was still counting down, but now the ticking is only a sneering indication of the passing seconds in which he hasn't pulled the trigger. Kylo Ren could do it right now, he could blow his brains out and save Father Hux the hassle, though the looming patient really doesn't wish to grant him the satisfaction of watching his limp body pellet down the ground with forfeit oozing out of his veins and failure blankly paling his dead eyes. 

Kylo Ren had summoned death upon many beings in his lifetime. He had gutted, skinned, tortured, and murdered anyone in which he presumed deserved to be _punished_ by his tenacious nature. But the idea of death was a bit of a misnomer, to him. He didn't necessarily fear it, but he didn't find comfort by the idea of dying either. 

Kylo Ren had always thought of death as neither a thing, person, nor a God. It was a finalising destination. It was the pit-stop between heaven and hell, _and if you're as conflicting and resistive as Kylo is,_ the in-between – the grey place in which the lost souls go to when they don't deserve to go to either places. 

Kylo Ren always assumed that one day another would either leave him injured, torn apart to shreds, buried, wounded, atomised or even slain – but never did he think that he could possibly be the reason for his own death. He's got no reason to live, especially now that there is no Eve left in the bruised and bleak vessel in which Hux's damage had left for him to play with.

The gun was digging into the burns on his right temple, but he felt no pain in this conflicting moment for even his soul felt like nothing but a gaping, open and oozing wound. He could stay, only for Eve – but she wasn't _his_ Eve anymore... 

His hand begins to tremble. _What the fuck is wrong with him?_ He wonders, _where the fuck did Kylo Ren, the merciless killer go?_ _Did he leave and disintegrate the moment Eve's memory had too?_

"You don't have to do this now, Ren." Father Hux said, though Kylo could hear the sarcasm still lingering in his pitchy voice, "– You could continue and perhaps find a life here with purpose, if you just become more obedient."

Slightly startled as Hux brought him back to reality and out of his own head where his shadows are screaming and fighting against his whirring thoughts – Kylo only shook his head and moved the gun beneath his chin. 

Kylo narrows his eyes and scowls, "I'm not a fucking dog," The inmate _barks._

"And yet, you're attached to my leash," He breathlessly laughs, smile then dwindling when his eyes move to Guard Roberts who is still holding his hand to the side of his face – his left eye almost completely swollen shut as he slightly swayed while standing by the rest of the men who are all unsure of what to do next.

Kylo Ren refused to think about her anymore. The mere girl had thrown him off course as destructively as a train-wreck, though she had never even understood what she was truely doing to him.

With morbid curiosity, Kylo tried to focus back on the disgusting and sadistic dead-end of his mind's maze, where all his inner demons are stuck with no way out. He pictures the bullet leaving the barrel and shooting up his skull, shattering his teeth, perishing his tongue and engraving itself into the back of his scalp.

He had never killed a soul with a gun before. Kylo Ren preferred to use more hands-on tools – whether that be multiple sharp and dangerous knives, or his _literal_ hands instead. He had no idea how long it would take for his life to perish by a mere bullet. _Would he feel the pain?  
_

Roberts and Hux seemed to be having a silent conversation with only their eyes, before he turns back to Patient 727.

"It's up to you, what you do. Though, might I ask, who will give Patient 728 company when you are gone?"

Kylo Ren visibly tenses and his eyes blow wide at her mentioning, though her name is now as derogatory as a number. Eve really is nothing but an inmate now, it's final. 

Father Hux is winning, _fuck!_ The damned coy smile on his face is inflicting further punishment to Kylo's already scarred conflict. He's becoming more and more vexatious, growing more and more sorrowed, with every word that the preacher uses to taunt him.

The ginger man is reading him so easily. Flicking his blue eyes upon the sweat dripping down Kylo's face, listening to the rapid heartbeat in his chest and even smelling the fear oozing off his pale skin.

It is as if he can pluck out Kylo's deepest secrets and devotion without his consent, and it’s infuriating beyond belief. He wants to turn the gun onto him, but that would only result in Kylo's death too – and now he knows, that he cannot die just yet. And that is exactly why the ginger prick is not cowering away, for he knows that Kylo is stuck with nowhere else to go. 

White-Ivy was an eerie place. It was the playground, home, war-zone and resort for all evil in the world to easily camouflage in with the rocking and omitted inanity that lingered the dark hallways. Kylo Ren wasn't crazy, he was just a violent sociopath – though, his doctor might as well scratch off that last part, for he can't help but feel when he specifically thinks of only one person.

He's stuck here for life, with no way out. And now Eve is too. The bullets loaded in the barrel, are his only way out. But Eve will never get a chance like this, she'll just rock like every other looney until her mind bleeds into madness and her beauty rots into a meaningless bleak.

He couldn't take it anymore. 

"Again, it's up to you..." The Father sighs, already turning his face away – awaiting the bullet to leave the muzzle, though he knew by the look on the inmate's face that he was internally breaking, yet could never scatter his eradication anywhere in which the young girl, was not.

_Nothing._

Kylo Ren's shoulders drop, and so does the gun – which is now held loosely by his side. 

He can't leave White-Ivy knowing that Eve is forever bound to the gates of evil. Kylo Ren, has been finally defeated – and it was all because of some girl.

He imagines her eyes, and not in the way they were from across the chessboard today as grey and unfocused as the walls, but as bright and enchanting as they were before Father Hux broke her. His left fist curls and clenched so tight that his nails dig into the soft skin of his palm. It hurts, but he feels centred by the pain – for it is the only agony in which he is currently in control of.

It's funny, but he doesn't laugh at the fact that he suddenly realises, that it was her intended job to fix him, but now he will be the one to try and place all of her jumbled puzzle pieces back together before he also figures out another way to get them _the hell_ out of this place. 

Kylo Ren couldn't take it anymore. He had to get out, otherwise he has wasted _another_ chance.

"Just as I expected..." Hux rolled his eyes and chuckled. Then nodding his head over to the swollen, Guard Roberts – who immediately hurried over, ready to collect his gun and further detain the defeated criminal. 

As Roberts walks over, Kylo flicks his faded eyes back to Hux to notice that he looks exceptionally pleased with himself, snarky almost. 

"Give Roberts back his gun, _please."_

Kylo Ren bites down on the side of his cheek, _hard._ He knows that the Priest is only saying that to rile him up, even if he still is the man holding a gun – which today, won't be used... if only it were a couple of weeks earlier and Kylo Ren hadn't yet grown tantalising feelings for Eve, for he wouldn't have resisted in shooting the ginger man down, and then himself too.

Guard Roberts tries his best to stand with authority and smirks at him through the tightening of his bruised skin. 

He chuckles low just as Kylo Ren is about to comply, gun ready to be handed over. 

"You better hope that your cage is more comfortable than the netherworld," Guard Roberts laughed right in his face, his swollen eye looking just as painful as it was. 

Kylo Ren didn't speak. The older man only continued, much to his own demise, "Because you ain't getting another chance to play with this gun again, _dog."_

_Kylo Ren couldn't take it any-fucking-more._

The gunshot echoed around the dining hall. The sound ricocheted down the halls, twined around the porcelain angels by the front doors and slithered through the thousands of tombstones which were distantly perched into the grounds over in the east.

Everyone in the hallways turned their heads at the sound, those locked in their cells flinched, and even little Eve who had been glaring at the rosary which had been wrapped tightly around her bedpost, gulped at the peculiar bang. But in the dining hall, where the sound blared and the firing aim had spat out deadly light – everyone took cover and muffled their ears as they began to ring when nothing but cruel silence followed the echo. 

Father Hux had fallen onto his knees and his arms covered his face. Though, he couldn't resist opening his eyes to watch the body of Kylo Ren drop limply to the floor with a horrific, dead thud – to feed his own sick pleasure, _of course._

Blood flooded and spat out of the bullet wound like searing fiery bursts, pulsating and intensifying with each dragging attempt of a jarring and brutal, last breath. 

Hux practically crawls back when the body is dropped and thrown by his feet, head rolling on the side to face him. His eyes have frozen over like the surface of a winter puddle, robbing them of their usual warmth. 

His pain was an ocean of unknowable depths, filled with swift currents and lurking beasts. With one last look at the ginger man, black mists swirled at the edges of his mind drawing him into sweet oblivion.

With no mercy or kindness, a single and final touch would burn hollow souls into a being of nothingness, and turn minds into a damp cold cave of a blank canvas, the odious faceless being had one name: death... and finally Kylo Ren realised how long it would take a person to die once the bullet has been shot. 

But he was not the man who died on the dining hall floors that night, _no –_ he was the condemned killer. He was Kylo Ren, the merciless man of evil, the opponent who made even Satan shrink with fear.

He was a man who killed, not a man who got killed. The gun is cocked in his strong hands, and as the guards all begin to spray their cans of pepper upon him and try to close the distance – Father Hux's wide and terrified eyes have risen back to the inmate, to be met with the sight of a gun pointed right at him.

The evil darkness of Kylo's eyes were the window to his soul that will haunt even the ghosts of White-Ivy, forevermore. 

He was the devil in a human's skin, on a mission to rid the very race in which he imitated. Kylo Ren and Father Hux may have their differences, but it was certain that they were as evil as each-other and worked in the same ways. They were both controlling and always had to be ten steps ahead. 

Kylo Ren was a hunter and any good hunter will know to go for the weak spot of an animal and for Father Hux, his weak spot was the same as his own.

They both didn't like to be surprised. They focussed and watched all, plotting and creating a blueprint in their minds from the shown evidence in reality, to put together every possible scheme in which could result... but Father Hux had never expected this – for Kylo Ren himself, didn't either. 

But all explosions are not carried out with a purposeful grace. They detonate with no mercy or kindness, raging and burning hollow souls into a being of nothingness, and blowing minds into a grind of dust. Kylo Ren truely, had enough. And he let go and allowed the demons in his mind to only control him from now on. 

The thudding feet of the running guards are cornering the inmate in, but he doesn't care for what happens to him right this minute. 

He smiles, his teeth gleaming in the darkness as the lights above flicker, and the record playing in the corner, scratches.

The gun cocks right in-front of Hux's blue eyes and Kylo's finger presses slightly on the trigger, but not before he says to Father Hux irreverently, "Did you expect this, _cunt?"_

_Click._


	24. TWENTY-THREEEE

Even as the winter sun slowly rises on the dawning of a new day, peering bounty over the frozen land and breathing inwards the evil of night to exhale nothing but light as it had done so for millions of years, there was something different in the way it rose slowly on this early morning. 

The sun seemed hesitant to take its place. The tall trees around White-Ivy are ominous in their dark swaying, veiled softly by the lightest of fog which curls around every crack in the roots and bark, and delicately slithers like snakes made out of mist up to the petalled leaves that heave beneath the weight of melting snow. 

White-Ivy stood as tall as it ever did, even though the man who owned it had crumbled. On opposite sides of the home, two people stand and look out their windows with blank, distant stares – unaware that darker times were coming, as they were both also oblivious to the fact that they were two pieces of the same jumbled puzzle, witnessing different realities in which were conceived by the same notion. 

Eve has been practically glued to the glass box in which lets an ominous amount of light into her cage. Her boney hands have twined around the bars but her fingernails scratch at the little crack in the pane – hoping to knock it out of place and feel the cool breeze that elopes the setting below. 

Her view is solely planted right in-front of the thousands of tombstones that line the western, back area of the mansion. Through the thin trees that carve the nature of the brick building and further beyond, it is below the overcast in which she can make out the tips of marble and stone graves. There is smothering clouds living both in her brain and sitting upon the earth, as if they decided that the heavens were down where the bodies lie beneath the rotting soil, instead. 

Eve doesn't know how long it has been since she had landed herself a comfortable spot in this penitentiary, shackled up and drugged with multiple blue and red pills every morning – but she does know that it had been a couple of days since she had encountered such a handsome man, who was capable of such rage. The memory of him strangling a woman not much more vulnerable than herself, _only seconds after he had tried to speak to her with his gruff and raspy voice,_ haunts her and sends an army of goosebumps to line her thin skin.

It wasn't long before the guards had ushered her and everyone else out of that room, and an even shorter amount of time later – when the gun had been shot, _twice._ Eve can only presume that the dark and enticing man, whom had a gnarly gash across his pale face but eyes that screamed further pain, had his crazy brains blown out, and the second shot which made her spine shudder, was only to ensure that he had been properly put down _– as if he was some kind of dog._

She doesn't feel guilty that a fellow inmate had died. Eve just feels off centred by the fact that in this wicked place, someone's life could be thrown away so quickly when the order has been removed with violence. She hadn't seen anything like that in all her time here, though she can't seem to remember anything at all... but she just supposes that's the exact reason in which got her here in the first place. 

The meaningless rosary in which wraps tightly around her bedpost riddles her with unease. _Was she once religious?_ She had to be, there's no other reason as to why the cross dangles above her closed eyes whenever she dreams about an army of angels coming into her room to take her some place better. But whenever she takes their glowing hands, they drag her right down to the nightmare realm, where hell is hot and the devil cackles at her welcoming. Though regrettably, even though Eve can't seem to understand anything about herself, she finds that she feels more content with facing the devil than the presumably, disappointed face of the Lord instead. 

There's no place for lunatics and maniacs like her up in heaven, and this very place itself sometimes tricks her into thinking that she's already in hell. She woke up this morning in a cold sweat and with grey crescents beneath her wide eyes. She had sat up and surveyed the tiny, cold room in hopes that she was somewhere else again, but just like yesterday morning, and the morning before that one, she was still trapped in her very own birdcage – though, she couldn't understand why her wings had been clipped and why she had been put in here in the first place. She wasn't a criminal. Though, with this jumbled mess of a brain she might as well could be... _she just couldn't remember._

The ceilings are claustrophobically low, only a few inches over six feet, and the ten by ten square of a room consisted of one mattress set in a corner upon an uncomfortable frame of pure rust. At night, the room was pitch black to the point where she couldn't figure out if her eyes were open or closed, but during the day it was painfully bland to stare endlessly at, as the hours drag by as gruesomely as the nail scratches in the cement walls.

For the past couple of days, Eve wracked, slapped and drowned her brains but couldn't come up with _any_ recollection of _anything_ other than: her name is Eve and she is an inmate at White-Ivy Manor – and even then, the last bit of the two pieces of information were given to her by a red-haired Father whom owned the home, had a sly smile and eyes of blue in which she had never known _could_ look so eerily cruel.

A tear slips down her fleshy cheek as she tries to imagine what a life could possibly mean or be like beyond her cracked but barred window. A metallic smell hung in the room. It reminded her somewhat of the smell of dried blood, and soon enough, the walls began to shrink in on her. It's a daunting, wretched kind of torture to be put in a cage when she doesn't even know what she had done to deserve it. Her mind is only becoming more tangled by the bleak atmosphere and the faces of bleeding boredom in which she catches in the pane to be her own reflection, terrifies her aching soul. Eve has to get out of here. _There has to be a way out of here!_

It is as if the bars that her fingers are wrapped around have burnt her as she snaps away from the window in a flee to the door that traps her in on the other-side. Her skin is glazed in a slight, panicked sweat. Breathing becoming ragged and sparse, Eve's single tear has become lost in the hundreds of salty drops that are crawling down her face as she sobs – just like she had done so, only yesterday. 

She crossed the small space in the matter of a few rushed and scattered steps, pressing herself desperately against the metal, locked door and banging at the small window that looked out to the dark hallway behind it. Eve feels as if she cannot breath but her lungs are still heaving in and out, but perhaps too quickly to be normal. Her fingernails break and bleed painfully when she began to claw at the small gaps near the lock, trying to pry the door open herself in the midst of her unconditioned anxiety attack. 

Screams are echoing her room like the wails of the netherworld itself, but nobody dares or even bothers to check what could be happening behind the door to her cell – for all guards are positioned in the east at the moment, and every other female like her is simply either rocking in their corners, or screaming too. Loosing hope, Eve hits her forehead in desperation against the door and lets her tears scrape down the surface instead of her rosy, blemished cheeks. 

The young girl is tired, lonely, and confused. She wants to go home, but she doesn't even know where or even if she has a home in the first place. She wants answers, but Eve doesn't wish to spend another breathing moment in this place in order to receive some – even if they were handed out as repetitively as the small plastic cups with medicine were. 

Opening her eyes, she tries to calm her breathing and instead wraps her bleeding fingers and knuckles around the doorhandle – hanging onto both the metal and her own wits for a split second. She examined the rouge spread across her flesh, and she then turns her gaze to the lever in her sweaty grip. 

Blowing a hopeful breath, she tried to turn it. With a grunt of effort, the lock unclipped and the metal frame scraped against the cement of her cell floor – the door to her cage opened. 

_Eve cried._

Her silhouette looked much taller and stronger as it loomed over what little light was left in the dead-empty hallway. Eve was practically choking on her own tears, but she couldn't fight the tired, crazy smile that spread across her face as she stood for a moment and braced her trembling palms against the metal frame.

The hall was her very first taste of freedom, in-fact it was Eve's very first taste of anything for a couple of days. The only things that occupied the hallway of the western-wards, were her own shadow and the invisible figures of all the ghouls, whose bodies presumably are buried over in the cemetery outside, below her very own cell.

It was strange that nobody seemed to be guarding the western ward on this fateful morning, but the weirdest part of the entire scene, _by far,_ was the total, almost crushing silence which lurked through the eerie, thin veins in which were the hallways of White-Ivy. The young girl couldn't even hear a soft echo coming from another patient's crying, in which had kept her up most nights – she couldn't even hear the tree branches scraping against the colour-stained windows. 

As if the floor was lava, she dipped her big toe out first and the boards beneath her skin creaked while she looked out the darkened corners of her eyes. She could do it if she moved stealthily. Eve could hide around the dark corners and search for the way out. Maybe, she could make a plan without being detected – but she had no time to wait, she was ready to leave now and her anxiety was not going to bare another minute trapped in her cell. 

But when she finally pulled together enough courage and tried to flee through the opening, her skeleton only smashed against something hard, and sent her falling back into her room. Her surroundings spin, just like the metaphorical jailbirds in which are flying in circles around the top of her dizzied head, like some sort of a joke compared to the euphoric and angelic waver of a halo. 

And when she opened her eyes once more, she was met with the daunting sight of her cell door... closed, and locked for presumably, _evermore._

_Again, Eve cries._

In the east, for the past two days, all Kylo Ren could focus on was the bruises in which were littered all over his body as a terrible consequence and the hungry gnarl at the lining of his hungry stomach – as did everyone else's in the penitentiary, who all screamed and wailed for food, for every single looney had been thrown into their cells without a word and left there for the passing days as chaos erupted between the guards and the courts... for there was no longer a head of the house – a Father to the holy mansion, because a murderous and sadistic patient had gotten hold a of a gun and blew the brains out of the preacher and his _best_ guard's skulls. 

East and west couldn't be anymore further apart than it already was with the distance of stairs, cages, and long, twining hallways to break the two inmates apart – but as Kylo Ren's soul lost itself to the whirring, analytical and pensive rumination that he was trapped in since he saw Father Hux's body limply fold to the floor, he assumed that the space between him and Eve, was for the best. 

He was a monster, and she was lucky that she had forgotten who he was.

Chains are shackled against both of their wrists, though he lets his bleed as they cut into his skin for they don't fully allow him the leverage to peer out his window as comfortably as the young girl is able to. Kylo Ren was a much more dangerous inmate, everyone knew this even before he had killed the two most important people in the Manor – therefor, he is now chained by the wrists and an even longer strap of linked metal, is dead-bolted into the floor, making it impossible for him to make the distance over to the door, and barely reach his window on the other side of the room. 

But he cannot complain. He had gotten what he had wanted ever since he first arrived to White-Ivy – killing Hux – all for the cost of losing what he truely needed, though he never realised he did, until she was totally lost from both him and herself too. There's an undeniable pain that is oozing out of his invisible wound which has cut his insides so deeply, all the way to the core of his restrained spirit. 

When he pulled the trigger on both Guard Roberts and Father Hux, he chose to forget about all conflicts that had withheld his previous attempts of either killing himself or everyone else in that damned room, for he worried about his Eve, but when all flew out the window as dangerously as a roaring wind when he could no longer pent up all his internalised cravings for violence, he assured himself that she would be fine without him for she doesn't even remember who she was, let alone him – and he was certain that he would be gunned down the moment his own bullet sunk between the eyes of the sadistic, stony-faced, Father. 

But sadly, he was still alive. And that is the worst kind of torture he has ever endured. 

Nobody had come to see him since they had thrown him into his cell with shaking hands and ran back into the hall to figure out where to go from there. There was a sense of unease and inconversance to the manor. Nobody knew what was truely happening, but change was most definitely summoned from the moment the ruthless killer, Kylo Ren, had murdered the head of the house.

Nobody but the guards who had been there and their superiors knew about what had happened two days ago. Not even the patients in which heard the deadly echo and blow of the bullet, could imagine that it was shot by Kylo Ren, who aimed it right between the cruel, blue eyes of the Father – who had done unspeakable things to deserve him a humble spot down in hell... _he assumes,_ though Kylo can't help but hope that the ginger bastard isn't there for then Kylo might just have to murder him again, when his own time comes _eventually._

Much like Eve had done all the way on the western side of the manor, Kylo also flinches away from his window when his eyes are no longer clinging onto anything from outside but instead just bleeding into a bleak haze as he simply only searches through the tumbling, confusing twists of his mind's dangerous maze. He doesn't know what hides deep in there with all of his internal demons, but there seems to be a gravitational pull to the exit where his ache is truely buried beneath the thorns and barb-wires that cage him inside his brain too. Though, through the binding tendrils of sharp submission, he can practically visualise the way Eve is digging the arch of her shovel into his soil and burying her own kind of devotional poison into it. 

Perhaps, that's how she had truthfully lost herself and memory, for she had pushed the soil over them and left him with all the pain to either nurture in her departure, or allow to shrivel up and die in the shadows of his devilish soul. Kylo Ren growls to himself and punches his fist into the stone of his wall. His knuckles bleed, but he doesn't even bother to wipe it on his uniform, instead he grips harshly at his raven hair and then rolls the blood upon his face when he tries to practically claw the pain from his mind.

He wishes he was dead. He wishes that he could forget her as easily as she had forgotten him.

He's hurting everywhere, and that level of trauma _has_ to be an inside job. Kylo Ren really thought that once Father Hux was dead, everything should be okay. _But he's still fucking here!_ He's still cuffed to the manor and there will never be a way out unless he is carried out in a wooden box as a _dead_ weight.

It's a bleeding brokenness that could be similar to grief, but he was always sociopathically empty, and had never even felt grief in the first place. Sometimes the sense of nothing returns and eases him down nicely, but moments like this are soon to strike like cold, treacherous waves. They fall onto him and drag him down to savage, dark depths. He chokes on the painful water, his lungs feeling so full that they're only a drop away from bursting.

His fists punch back into the stone. But the gruelling shard in his heart, stomach, mind, bones and guts never subsides – it's as if his spirit had combusted and the debris of his own violent nature had ricocheted upon every inch of his vessel. And it was all because of one girl who he had only first become interested in, because of her overwhelming sense of innocence to which he wanted to ravage and steal... only, she handed it over herself and somehow became to mean so much more to him.

Her forgotten devotion to him was a poison to his own savagery. His mind tries to cycle through these new, unwelcome emotions faster than the record in the dining hall could skip and scratch. Kylo Ren's fighting a mixture of competing emotions, each of them vying for dominance and even the devil on his shoulder has placed down his pitched trident and retreated with defeat. 

The worst part of everything, was that the pain is all so worthless, for the only way in which he could ever save her... _is to stay away._ And presumably, they're both going to be here for the rest of their lives, so he must get used to it sooner than later, before this agony consumes him entirely.

When his white hands have turned nothing but red, Kylo stops slamming his fists and instead lets them tremble mid-air. _What has happened to him?_ No longer is he the man in which he once thought he was. 

Then, Kylo Ren kicked the wall once more for good measure and quickly pulled his white singlet from the slick of his perpetrated chest, throwing it over his shoulders and head. His toned chest was glistening in the soft glow of the reaching morning sun through his small window, and his lungs were almost moving quicker than his heartbeat. 

The tear of the singlet echoes through the small space, and dangles in two in his rough bleeding hands for a split second of considering, before the inmate ultimately wraps either-side around his knuckles and then just stands in his place trying to advert his mind from the pain in which returns without the distraction of his blood tapping on the stone by his feet. 

It was a difficult task though, as thoughts inevitably wormed their way into his head around his normal waking defenses. He tried not to think about what Eve was doing right now, and if she was somehow safe and okay. Kylo Ren _really_ tried not to think about the ghoul of Father Hux, possibly out for their blood as he was probably patrolling the gates to hell in this very moment, awaiting the Lord to come and save him, _once again._ He tried not to think how the walls and ceiling of the cell were slowly sinking and closing in on him. He took each of these thoughts and coached himself to breathe and advert through them until they too, had become lost in the never-ending maze of his mind.

And after awhile, long after Kylo's breathing had evened out and his face had gone slack with the peace of undisturbed unconsciousness, all that was left... _was silence._

The quiet breath of nothing is chaotic in a dull, antagonising way. For a second, Kylo even wonders if he had lost his sense of hearing, until his own heartbeat is pulsing in his ears like the sound of a thousand, banging drums. It feels like death is the very being hushing the world to a minimal just the same as bereavement comes, and in quiet moments it chokes the breath from Kylo's body and short circuits his endless thoughts. 

_And then he hears it._ Her words are screamed into his right ear, and then again into his left – and so on, over and over. Her breath is sharp down his spine and her meaning is digging its metaphorical nails into his thick skin, scraping the syllables into every inch to ensure that he never forgets them, _ever._

A loud wail scratches up Kylo Ren's throat and he drops to his knees. 

He clamped his hands over his piercing ears and screwed his eyes shut tight, trying to block it out but her voice was still gliding through the small gap beneath his door and booming upon him. No matter the muffle of his wrapped hands, there was no difference – Eve's voice was still haunting him, and absolutely terrifying him. The sounds of humanity in turmoil assaulted his ears with relentless and merciless haste. He pressed down harder, desperate to make the screams of a familiar sentence from somehow killing him, for he was about ready to smash his skull relentlessly into the stone floor to make her voice go away. 

_"Please, leave me alone..."_

He can see her eyes looking back at him.

_"Please, leave me alone..."_ _  
_

They've got an unfamiliar blur to the colour, and no longer do they shine with an innocent adoration and wonder.

_"Please, leave me alone..."_ _  
_

The fog to her disgruntled, confused gaze is as thick as the wall in which has been built in her mind.

Kylo Ren has never cried once in his life before, but right now... he feels the undeniable urge to. The pain is eloping him, taking him into its smothering embrace and suffocating the air from his lungs while also leeching the life out of his pumping, adrenaline rushed, veins. No longer does he fight against his own sentencing, for Kylo Ren truely understands the insanity that follows him as closely as his own shadow, now. He's screaming, he's thrashing. His hands are still painfully pressed against his ears and her voice is still somehow echoing loud in the small space of his forever home.

His breathing is ragged and sparse, but Kylo manages to use his last breath before the sparks begin to flood his vision and pull him into a faint state – and he screams her name, dragging his bleeding and bound hands from his ears as he does so.

"Eve!"

Nothing. It was as though his own calling was the magical spell to curse away his own haunts. Her voice doesn't return, and all echoing sounds faded back into a meaningless, remote, nothingness. Kylo Ren's dark, sombre eyes snapped onto the door to his cell, pupils huge with fear as he almost awaits a guard to come and strike him for the noise only he had made, but still... _nothing._

There wasn't even a guard outside his door on this fateful morning. He could tell by the way boots weren't crossing by the small gap beneath his door, every thirty-two seconds, to be precise – he had counted. And there was no faint smell of cigarette smoke looming through the cracks to keep Kylo Ren's gnawing addiction tamed.

The large, dangerous inmate huffed out a tired, tortured breath that was part disbelief and part relief – Kylo wasn't quite sure. Though, he was sure that he could feel his own body starting to tremble, _and he wasn't cold._ He sat there in shock for what felt like a very long time before he tore his eyes away from the door when finally, he heard another distant and low sound. 

The tips of his fingers sported blood where he’d apparently dug his blunt nails into his skull. The scratches on both sides of his head throbbed dully and he knew he’d be developing a headache later but never less, Kylo pushed himself roughly off the ground and made the small distance to his window – pulling on his chains and stretching the extra two inches just to be able to uncomfortably peer out the pane. 

And at the same time, all the way in the west – Eve too, hears a sound from out her cell window and curiously peaks out the bars to see what it could possibly be. 

Two guards. Two shovels. Two holes in the soil of the cemetery and two black, smothering and conceding, body bags. 

Eve doesn't gasp, nor does she cry. She's impossibly numb as her cold hand presses through the bars and against the even colder window.

But she does realise one thing, and that was that the only way in which she will ever be able to get out of this damn place, is if she was put in a thick bag and thrown as carelessly in the aisle of tombstones right behind White-Ivy manor – just like the two bodybags were being buried, on this morning. 

A small, _crazy_ smile rises upon the dryness of her petalled lips.

Kylo Ren though, well not even _he_ had that much optimism. There was no way out for him, period. He was to live a life of unconditional hell forever in this place, and then once his time is up... he is to be summoned to that very, fiery place spoken itself. 

His breath is fogging up against the glass, but he doesn't need to wipe it away for he can still make out the sight below _his own_ window in this very moment. His thick brows furrow. 

A car drives up the side of the fence, gliding upon the stone pavement with taunt as Kylo Ren only pulls against his restraints in need of moving further than a couple of worthless metres. Black and shiny, it seemed to be a newer model from this distance and with a squint of his dark, deadly eyes, Kylo can still easily tell it was a Porsche 356. He hadn't seen many of them during his time as a rural, dirty mechanic but he had read about that particular model in a magazine during his everyday lunch breaks.

He bites down on his tongue and tilts his head slightly to the left with observation as his big and clammy hands finally press up against the foggy, cold window – his long and pale fingers stretching out like spider legs. Kylo Ren doesn't even think that he blinked once, as he watched a thin man park the car and step somewhat elegantly out of the vehicle. 

Dressed in black, the man walked up the front steps of the manor with grace but there was a sense of authority resting upon his bony shoulders and in his distant, smouldering gaze. Twilight wraps cooly around the figure, and the man breathes a sharp breath of icy air into his lungs. 

He is met with the embrace of the spooky mansion, and it seems that even the grotesque gargoyles raise an eyebrow of concern to his arrival, though even the stone remembered him and welcomed him as honourably as the snow melts beneath his own feet. 

Soon enough, the stranger was lost inside of the front doors of White-Ivy, and Kylo Ren finally blinked. Although, he definitely got a notion that he would see that strange, bony man again. 

And like always, he was most certainly, correct. 

Though, the man was a stranger to the mad people inside, he was not to the shelter above their heads and the floorboards which familiarly creaked and groaned beneath his welcomed feet. Guards moved like a herd around the guest, some leading the way and some following closely behind. One man took the leather briefcase in which the stranger had brought, from his bony, slightly wrinkled hand, whilst avoiding the blue of his stern eyes. 

The stranger didn't utter a single word to anyone, but he did manage to slightly allow a small smirk to rise upon his wrinkled lips when he passed the statue of Virgin Mary in the foyer, which had stood proud in that very spot for many years. He made his way to the dark eastern wards, and only a couple of weary guards continued to follow – the rest standing flabbergasted and nervous, beneath the weeping eyes of the porcelain statue.

The thudding footsteps of marching men and their new leader, bounce off the walls and slither in thundering echoes down every hallway. It didn't even seem to be that the stranger was leading the men, it was more so the guards followed _him_ as he casually strolled deeper and deeper into the most chaotic cages of the manor, acting as if this was _his home._

Only minutes after he had watched the stranger drive up the path to White-Ivy, Kylo Ren heard the marches onwards and nearing his own room. If it were a couple of days prior, Kylo might have presumed that the sounds would simply walk by his cell, but after what he had done... he knew that retribution was shortly about to arrive with a harsh punishing – but without Father Hux alive to hand it out, who would wield the power to strike him with damnation?

It was maddening for Kylo Ren, not being able to predict what could happen to him. But in all seriousness, he no longer cared so long as his Eve was going to be okay – although, he can't ensure that without most likely staying the hell away, but keeping a watchful eye upon her. 

The footsteps were coming closer, and closer. Kylo kept his brown eyes locked on the car parked below his window, but his ears were perked and listening intently, in the way a predator may pretend to be tame before violently coiling around its nearing prey.

The approaching footsteps clip-clopped down the floorboards. The heals of the first shoes sounded new and expensive, definitely not the plastic soles of the impractical shoes of a nurse or doctor. Kylo's eyebrows furrow and his eyes finally flinch away from the frame but he doesn't yet turn around.

Whoever is coming up the passageway is moving quick, therefor he's either in a rush or walks as if he is untouchable – Kylo presumes the latter by the way he can see that he had left his car window slightly rolled down. The footsteps stopped just outside his door, diminishing what little light of the flickering hallway could peak below the crack of the cell-door.

The four guards who followed him had their batons ready in their hands, not even considering the thought of bringing a gun near the inmate – the stranger brought no weapon but the cruelty that raged in his _humble_ soul. Kylo Ren may have thought that he had met his match when he was first introduced to Father Hux, but the Lord sure did have another surprise coming.

A key sunk into the lock, and clicked effortlessly to the right. The door scraped the ground and soon enough, a breath of whipping air whooshed into the room, fanning against the slicked skin where Kylo's hair stuck to the back of his neck. The light of the hallway embraced Kylo Ren's tall, looming figure like the first dawn of dark twilight. He didn't move, and neither did the figure standing in the middle of the doorframe, but a heavy silence did fall over them like a lead blanket as the gulping guards behind, wait with shallow and brittle breaths – still shaken from watching the way the inmate had shot two men dead, two days ago.

Kylo Ren huffed and smirked softly to himself, though it might have fallen if he had turned around and witnessed the very smirk upon the stranger's face too. The inmate waits in the shadows, bleeding and bound, curiously awaiting the man to introduce himself and possibly read off a piece of paper, what the courts had decided what was best for him. 

_"Are you Kylo Ren?"_

The inmate's shoulders arched in. Head turning to the side, his silhouette was nothing but a large shadow of a toned man, with a prominent nose _._

"Who _the fuck_ are you?" The inmate responded to the stranger, not answering his question and instead giving his own.

The stranger smiled. Kylo Ren finally turned fully around and faced him.

The stranger stood proud and tall in the luminance of the doorframe, being nothing but the barrier from Kylo Ren and the trappings of his own cell. His face is gaunt, lined and haggard before his time. He looks as if he had almost just come from war, but his age was beyond the years upon the sheets of enlistment. The man himself is all rags over jutting bones with no fat to keep him warm beneath the suit of black he wore, the only colour upon him being the blue of his bright eyes, which sink into his face just as deep as his hollowed cheeks and the slight crack in his bald scalp.

The man raised his thin eyebrows suggestively at Kylo's obvious impudence, to which he only ignored and continued to glare at the stranger. Then, the man wordlessly brought one long and thin hand up, as if he was trying to ease the obvious tension in the air, but the long fingernails in which Kylo's eyes immediately adverted to, only seemed to showcase the daggers of evil to come. 

The stranger parted his thin, wrinkled lips and his white teeth glistened with wealth, just as much as his polished, leather shoes did too.

"I'm Snoke," He said, a mischievous grin crawling across his face, "Now, are you Kylo Ren?"

Kylo's fingers curled into tight fists. Something in his blood quickened, and his tongue twisted into his cheek as his jaw tensed. Kylo Ren was great at reading people, always has been. And just by the way the stranger _– Snoke –_ spoke and withheld himself: strong shoulders, stiff spine, pointed feet and chin up as if there was a wretched, disgusting smell beneath his nose – which there was: _the smell of Kylo's bleeding knuckles and the sweat pebbling off his dirty skin –_ Kylo just knew that Snoke, thought of himself as superior, and there must be a dark and vicious reason as to how he attained that belief and sense of overwhelming authority.

"That _or_ Patient 727," Kylo Ren sarcastically chimed, cocking his head to the side and raising a brow, "What do you want?"

His snark smirk stays upon his wrinkled face, but Snoke suddenly gives Kylo a smouldering stare and he could almost feel even the air density drop and the ice of his cruel glare, cool up the small space of the cell. 

Kylo _doesn't_ flinch when the man's smile only widens, teeth snaring as he beams them his way, but Kylo Ren _does_ admit only to the devil upon his shoulder, that in that very next moment, _he had finally met his newest match,_ for soon enough,Snoke uses all the cruelty sitting among his tongue, to lace every word which falls next from his sadistic, antagonising grin...

_"I want to meet the man who killed my son."_


End file.
